^  •••-■e-,, 


UC-NRLF 


B    3    553    57E 


UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 


Platinum  Bill" 


Gift  of  C.  A.  Kofoid 


.    "ii 

'    •             \ 

[UNDER 

THE 

NORTHERN 
LIGHTS. 

BY  "PLATINUM  BILL" 


Author  of    "The  Battle  Cry  of   Peace,"   Military   March   Song; 

"The  Flag  Our  Fathers  Flew,"   "New  War  Songs 

and  Other  Poems, ' '  and 

"AFTER  TWELVE  YEARS" 
A  Thrilling  Romance  of  the  Trails  and  Trials  of  the  Far  North 


ILLUSTRATED 

With  Fotografs 
By  J.  DooDY,  THE  Sourdough  Foxografkr 


Copyright,  1916, 

By  W.     R.     SMITH, 

Portland,  Oregon. 

British  and  Canadian  Rights  Reserved. 


PubUshed  By  THE  COLUMBIA  PRINTING  CO.,  420  MorrisonSt., 
Portland,  Oregon. 
>7a 


TO 

THE  OIvD  SOURDOUGHS 

And  Especially 

to  the  Memory  of  those  who  have 

MUSHED  ON, 

This  volume  is  Dedicated 

As  a  Tribute  to  True  Friendship. 


AUTHOR'S    PREFACE 


This  little  volume  is  designed  to  perpetuate  those 
stories  of  the  Far  North  which  will  interest  both  the 
Old  Sourdough  and  his  very  numerous  friends  "out- 
side," all  the  poems  being  founded  on  facts  and  actual 
occurrences  and  embodying  true  stories  of  the  pioneers 
of  the  polar  regions. 

Many  of  these  occurrences  are  reminiscences  of  the 
early  days,  though  some  of  them  are  of  more  recent 
occurrence. 

The  characters  are  all  well  known  in  the  North,  and 
many  of  them  are  still  living  there,  while  some  of  them 
have  "mushed  on"  to  the  Golden  Shore  across  the 
Great  Divide. 

The  illustrations  shown  are  of  actual  people  and 
places  in  the  North,  and  the  pictures  of  the  Midnight 
Sun  and  Dawson  by  Light  of  the  Aurora  Borealis,  by 
Jerry  Doody,  the  Sourdough  Fotografer,  are  really 
v^onderful  reproductions,  and  triumphs  of  the  foto- 
grafic  art.  The  Aurora  scene  is  the  only  successful 
foto  ever  taken  of  this  remarkable  phenomena  and  Bro. 
Doody  is  certainly  to  be  congratulated  on  his  success. 

With  this  brief  explanation  and  the  hope  that  my 
readers  will  overlook  my  literary  inefficiency  in  the 
pleasure  of  finding  their  old  friends  perpetuated  in 
these  pages,  both  in  verse  and  picture,  and  not  criticise 
my  efforts  too  severely,  I  consign  myself  to  obscurity 
and  this  little  volume  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the 
public. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


\J 


INDEX      TO       TITLES 

Page 
LOVE  IS  GOD 8 

BOOST    9 

THE  PASSING  OF  BARNEY  MAGEE 14 

MY  MAN   18 

THE  CHECHACO  GIRL  22 

THE  DOWNFALL  OF  SOLO  BILL 25 

THE  AUTO  CRAZE  STRIKES  DAWSON 29 

THE  DREAMSTER   32 

HER  TEMP'RATURE'S  FORTY  BELOW 36 

FOUR  HEROES  BOLD 39 

JOE  M'FRAU  ON  PAI'NEER  BALL 42 

YUKON  AT  THE  FRONT 46 

LIFE &U 

A  WINTER  NIGHT'S  DREAM 51 

THE  OLD  GROUCH 56 

THE  OLD  PIONEER'S  SOLILOQUY 60 

WHERE  JOHN  CHINAMAN  GOT  HIS  SMILE  65 

BABY'S  FAREWELL   69 

"HE  THAT  IS  WITHOUT  SIN" 72 

SOURDOUGH  GARDEN  SASS 77 

THE  ICE  POOL 81 

THE  EVENT  OF  THE  YEAR 85 

FROZEN  IN  89 

A  LESSON  FROM  THE  BRUTES 94 

IT'S  A  LONG  WAY  TO  DEAR  OLD  DAWSON  96 


GLOSSARY   OF  TERMS 

AURORA— Northern  Lights.  An  electric  atmospheric  phe- 
nomena that  as  yet  scientists  have  been  unable  to  sat- 
isfactorily explain. 

BEANS — Chips  or  markers  used  in  a  card  game. 

BENCH  CLAIM— A  claim  on  the  hillside. 

BOYLE'S  GUN  CORPS— Fifty  men  who  were  armed, 
equipped  and  sent  to  the  front  in  the  present  war  by 
the  Canadian  Klondyke  Mining  Co.,  of  which  J.  W. 
Boyle  is  the  active  head  in  this  country. 

CACHE— A  place  to  store  or  keep  anything.    A  safe  place. 

CARIBOO— An  animal  of  the  deer  tribe  found  all  over  the 
northern  part  of  the  continent.  Larger  than  the  deer; 
not  so  large  as  the  elk,  though  more  resemblmg  the 
latter. 

CHECHACO— One  who  has  not  wintered  in  the  country. 

DREDGE— A  mammoth  dredging  machine  with  which  most 
of  the  mining  operations  in  the  north  are  now  car- 
ried on. 

DUST— Fine  particles  of  placer  gold. 

FAKEERS— Priests  of  the  mountain  tribes  of  Northern 
India. 

GEE  POLE— A  pole  attached  to  a  dog  sled,  by  which  it  is 
steadied  and  guided. 

GOLDEN  RULE — Do  unto  others  as  you  would  that  they 
should  do  unto  you. 

GOOGS— The  local  term  expressive  of  the  Guggenheim  in- 
terests, which  are  unspeakably  immense  all  over  the 
North  on  both  sides  of  the  boundary  line. 

GREAT  WHOLE — The  author's  conception  of  the  Supreme 
Power  or  Being— the  Creator. 

HOOCK — Liquor.  Originally  applied  to  a  home  made  arti- 
cle in  that  line,  to  which  the  early  day  miner  resorted 
when  no  other  was  available.  Usually  made  from  pota- 
toes and  sometimes  from  the  peelings  alone  as  a  mat- 
ter of  economy,  potatoes  in  that  country  frequently 
being  as  high  as  14  cents  a  pound  even  at  the  present 
day. 

HUSKIES— A  breed  of  dogs  peculiar  to  the  Northern  coun- 
try, of  wonderful  strength  and  endurance  and  excellent 
sleigh  dogs. 

HYAS— Chinook  Indian  jargon  for  Great.  Chinook  is  not 
really  an  Indian  language,  but  a  jargon  introduced  by 
the  Jesuit  Priests  and  Hudson's  Bay  Factors  many 
years  ago.  It  is  made  up  partly  of  words  from  our  own, 
some  from  the  French,  some  Indian  and  some  that  can 
not  be  classed  as  words  of  any  language.  It  was  used 
by  the  early  pioneers  as  a  medium  of  communication 
with  all  the  different  tribes. 


6      UNDER   THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

IIIIIMIIIIIMIIIIIMIMIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIUIIIIIIIIIIMIIIMIJIIllMllllllltlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllKlllllllllllinilUIIIUnilllllllllMIIUIIIIIIIIIIII^ 

HYDRO-GIANT — A  hydraulic  swivel  nozzle  of  large  size. 
Usually  throws  a  four  to  six-inch  stream  of  water  un- 
der immense  pressure,  which  rapidly  washes  away  large 
hills  and  even  mountains.  The  dirt  and  water  are  led 
into  a  flume  or  sluice,  where  the  gold  is  caught  in  the 
riffles  and  saved. 

INSIDE — 'Refers  always  to  the  northern  country  with  the 
exception  of  the  coast  towns. 

ICE  POOLS — Pools  are  made  on  the  minute  at  which  the  ice 
in  the  river  will  start  to  move  in  the  spring.  They 
range  from  25c,  which  is  the  smallest  coin  in  the  coun- 
try, to  as  high  as  $100.00  on  each  minute.  A  rope  is 
fastened  to  a  stake  out  in  the  river  channel  and  also  to 
a  whistle  on  shore.  An  electric  connection  from  the 
whistle  also  stops  a  clock  and  on  this  the  pool  is  paid. 
If  all  minutes  are  taken  a  dollar  pool  thus  wins  $60.00; 
$5.00  pool,  $300,  etc. 

LAY — To  work  ground  on  shares  is  called  working  on  a  lay. 

LAW-HITCHED— Legally  married. 

LOST  CHANNEL— The  pay  streak,  or  dirt  that  carries  the 
gold  disappears  in  some  cases  and  cannot  be  followed 
and  is  then  referred  to  in  this  manner. 

MUCKER— A  ne'er-do-well. 

MUCKLUKS— Indian  boots,  made  of  skins. 

MUSH — To  travel  on  foot.  To  go  ahead,  when  used  in  ad- 
dressing a  dog  or  dog  team. 

NUGGETS — Coarse  pieces  of  placer  gold. 

OUTSIDE — Anywhere  south  of  the  55th  degree  of  latitude. 
Usually  referring  to  the  coast  cities. 

PAY — The  dirt  and  gravel  which  carries  the  gold  in  placer 
form. 

PIONEER  DAY— The  anniversary  of  the  discovery  of  gold 
at  Dawson.     August  17. 

POKE — A  leather  bag  or  pouch,  usually  of  buckskin,  for 
holding  gold  dust  and  nuggets,  or  money. 

RAY — Dr.  Hayden  claims  that  each  mineral  gives  out  a 
different  "ray"  v/hich  he  claims  to  have  invented  a 
machine  to  record. 

RIFFLES — Obstructions,  usually  placed  crosswise,  though 
sometimes  lengthwise,  of  a  sluice  box,  to  catch  the 
gold. 

SKAGTOWN— The  city  of  Skaguay,  Alaska. 

SKOOKUM— Chinook  for  strong. 

SLUICE — A  box-like  affair  of  boards  with  riffles  in  the  bot- 
tom to  catch  the  gold.  A  large  head  of  water  is  then 
run  through  the  sluice,  which  is  set  at  such  an  angle  as 
to  cause  the  current  to  be  very  swift,  and  the  pay  dirt, 
or  pay  as  it  is  called,  is  then  shoveled  into  the  sluice 


GLOSSARY  OF   TERMS  7 

I  IIMIIMIIIIMMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII.lrillllllllllllllllllJirilllllllimillllllllllllllllllllllllllllMIIIIIIIIIIIH 

and  the  swift  running  water  carries  the  dirt  and  stones 
to  the  tailing  pile  and  the  gold  is  caught  in  the  riffles 
and  saved. 

SOURDOUGH — A  person  who  has  seen  the  river  freeze  up 
in  the  fall  and  open  the  following  spring.  Originally 
used  to  designate  those  who  used  sour  dough  instead 
of  yeast  to  make  bread  in  the  early  days. 

SPUDS— Potatoes. 

SQUAW-MAN — A  white  man  who  has  married  or  lived  with 
a  squaw.    A  term  of  reproach. 

SUMMIT— The  dividing  line  between  Alaska  and  the  Yukon 
Territory,  at  the  summit  of  the  White  Pass,  18  miles 
from  Skaguay,  Alaska. 

SUN  ROUND  LIKE  A  MILL— In  the  Northland  in  summer 
the  sun  rises  in  the  North,  or  nearly  so,  at  nine  in  the 
m.oming  it  is  in  the  East,  at  noon  in  the  South,  at  three 
o'clock  in  the  west  and  sets  very  nearly  in  the  North 
for  from  one  to  several  hours  according  to  the  date. 
On  the  21st  of  June  it  does  not  set  at  all  to  points  north 
of  the  Arctic  Circle. 

TAILINGS  or  TAILING  PILE— The  refuse  from  the  lower 
end  of  the  sluice  boxes.  Pay  dirt  from  which  the  gold 
has  been  removed. 

TRAIL — Footpath;  sometimes  a  road. 

VIRGIN  GROUND— Ground  that  has  never  been  prospected. 

YUKON  ORDER  OLD  PIONEERS— A  secret  society 
composed  of  men  who  were  within  the  watershed  of 
the  Yukon  river  on  or  before  June  1st,  1899.  Lodge 
No.  1  is  located  at  Dawson  as  is  also  the  Grand  Lodge. 
There  is  a  lodge  at  Seattle  and  several  scattered 
through  the  inside  country. 


LOVE  IS  GOD. 

With  all  my  heart  I  love  you,  dear ; 
Your  presence  thrills  my  very  soul. 

I  always  feel,  when  you  are  near, 
That  life  's  complete — that  e'en  the  hole 

Where  Cupid's  arrow  pierced  my  heart 
Is  necessary  to  my  life — 

Tho  Heaven's  gates  stood  wide  apart 
I  could  not  enter — 'thout  my  wife. 

II. 

Thro  countless  aeons  have  I  known, 
It  seems  to  me,  that  soul  Divine; 

And,  soul  to  soul,  we've  closer  grown 
Since  e'er  I  first  knew  you  were  mine. 

Thro  countless  aeons  yet  we'll  roam 
And  you  will  still  my  life  inspire, 

And  when  the  Master  calls  us  home 
To  where  I'll  play  on  tuneful  lyre — 

III. 

Still  will  my  soul  sing  songs  of  praise 
To  that  Great  Whole  of  which  we're  part; 

Still  will  my  voice  an  anthem  raise 
To  hour  that  gave  to  me  the  heart 

So  full  of  music,  art  and  love. 
That  even  were  I  but  a  clod 

My  songs  would  pierce  blue  Heaven  above 
My  inspiration — ;Love  is  God. 


BOOST. 

This  country  's  been  good  to  you,  pard, 

Far  better  'n  so  called  civ'lization. 
So  why  do  you  knock  it  so  hard 

'Stead  o'  boostin'  to  beat  tarnation? 
You've  never  gone  hungry  in  here; 

At  workin'  you're  not  over  zealous ; 
You've  money  to  buy  wine  and  beer; 

Your  poke  'd  make  a  mizer  get  jealous. 


II. 


Why  do  you  tell  the  chechaco. 

From  the  moment  he  opens  the  door, 
If  ever  you  do  outside  go 

That  you'll  never  come  back  any  more? 
This  country  aint  worked  out,  pardner. 

There's  much  virgin  ground  yet  will  prove  good; 
There's  creeks  that  aint  been  prospected; 

An'  there's  game  in  a  plenty,  for  food. 


W    UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

IMIIMIIMIIlnllllllMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIJIIIIIIIUMIIIIIIIMIIMIIMIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIJIIMinlllMIMIIIIIIMIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIllllinilllirlllllllllllllinllMIIIMIIIJ 

III. 

Then,  there's  quartz,  silver  an'  copper, 
Sayin'  nothin'  o'  platinum  'n  tin. 

An'  mostly,  plenty  of  water 

Fer  the  prospector  't  tries  fair  ter  win. 

You  say  our  quartz  aint  wuth  minin' — 
That  it  all  pinches  out,  soon  or  late? 


.1 


This  Country  's  Been  Good  to  You,  Pard. 

Gold  never  yet  came  from  nothin', 
It  is  me  as  is  here  fer  to  state. 


IV. 

Gold  has  been  found  here  a  plenty, 

An'  it  didn't  come  down  from  the  sky. 

You're  young,  if  you  are  thrice  tAventy. 

Don't  give  up,  but  have  just  one  more  try. 


BOOST.  11, 

HiMiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiijriiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiniiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiuuuiuMiiuiiuiiuiuuiai 

Try  boostin'  instead  o'  knockin'. 

Without  diggin'  gold  never  was  found. 
Then,  when  you  hang  up  your  stockin' 

Mebbe  Santa  '11  fill  't  out  o'  the  ground. 

V. 

The  booster  makes  friends  all  'roimd  'im 

That  '11  mush  with  him  many  a  mile, 
But  the  cuss  that  eilways  knocks,  Jim, 

Why,  they  don't  think  his  comip'ny's  wuth  while. 
Get  up  a  name  as  a  booster. 

An'  then  boost,  every  chance  that  you  get. 
Crow,  tho  you  crow^  like  a  rooster. 

An'  you'll  soon  have  a  flock,  you  can  bet. 

VI. 

There's  naught  gained  yourself  or  your  friends,  pard, 

By  your  constantly  knockin'  this  land. 
There's  still  good  pay,  if  you  work  hard. 

An'  you'll  win  yet — you've  sure  got  the  sand. 
Boost,  an'  the  hull  world  boosts  with  you, 

But  the  knocker  folks  soon  leave  alone. 
Keep  a  knockin'  an'  some  day  you'll  rue. 

So  don't  be  a  dark  horse,  be  a  roan. 

VII. 

For  the  roan,  they  say,  never  tires; 

He's  there  till  the  end  of  the  race. 
The  feller  't  wants  men  never  fires 

Any  man  that's  always  at  his  place. 


12    UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

luiNMimiiiiiiiMUiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiniiiniiiiiJiiniiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiniiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiMMiMiiiMiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiin 

Now  don't  get  nasty  an'  hateful, 

For  this  country's  been  good  to  you,  pard. 
You  wouldn't  be  thot  ungrateful? 

Well,  then,  boost,  BOOST,  an'  boost  good  an' 
hard. 

VIII. 

Outside  you'd  soon  find  the  bread  line 

An'  before  you'd  been  there  very  long, 


Sinking  a  Shaft.     Boiler  used  to  Thaw  the  Ground. 

Lookin'  up  some  o'  yer  fren's  fine 

To  be  helpin'  you  back,  on  a  song; 

Or  workin'  yer  passage  to  Skagtown 

An'  mush-on  down  the  trail,  lookin'  wise ; 

Siwashin'  the  winter  trail  down. 

So  why  can't  you  quit  tellin'  these  lies. 

IX. 

Then,  when  you  got  back,  you'd  boost,  pard, 
You'd  be  tellin'  how  tough  'tis  outside; 

You  found  that  the  eats  came  so  hard 

That  you  COULDN'T  live  there,  if  you  tried; 


BOOST.  13. 

iiiiMiiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiniiijniiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiJiiiiiiiiiiiiinniniiiiiiiniiiiMiiiiiiiiiuiiiniiiiniiiniiMiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiniunnMiuiiiiiuiiiuin 

Knew  that  inside  you'd  have  plenty, 

An'  that  e'en  tho  the  winters  ARE  long, 

Knew  that  if  you  needed  twenty. 

You  could  get  it,  'thout  singin'  a  song. 

X. 

So  boost,  an'  stay  while  you're  here,  pard, 

An'  take  wamin'  from  others,  who've  tried 
The  outside,  an'  found  it  was  hard, 

Comin'  back  here  a  swallowin'  pride. 
That  here,  as  Pat  says,  'tis  aisy 

To  be  livin'  the  best  in  the  land. 
E'en  if  you  ARE  a  bit  lazy. 

So  fer  boostin'  hereafter  you'll  stand. 


THE  PASSING  OF  BARNEY  M'GEE. 

Now  Barney  Magee  was  a  name  that  was  known 
From   Whitehorse    to    Dawson,    from    Fairbanks    to 

Nome ; 
For  true  prince  of  the  blood  was  this  big  man  so  bold — 
O'er  six  feet  in  his  stockings  and  sixty  years  old ; 
And  a  man  who  in  union  believed  there  was  strength, 
Until  one  of  his  own  he  accomplished  at  length. 

II. 

Now  Hyas  Skookum  Chief  was  the  title  he  held, 
Who  so  firm  and  so  solid  this  union  did  weld ; 
And,  as  proudly  he'd  gloat  o'er  the  candidate  bold 
Who,  unwary,  invaded  his  sacred  stronghold, 
He'd  then  call  in  his  henchmen  and  quick  bar  the  door. 
And  straightway  the  poor  candidate  place  on  the  floor. 


THE  PASSING  OF  BARNEY  MAGEE.    15. 

umiiiiiimiiiiiuiiiHiiiiiimmmitiimmimiiiiimi iiiimiwii iiiiiiiiiiimiimiiiMim iiiiiniiiimiiimiiiiiii in iiimiiimmiiiiiiiiiin iiiiiiiiiiuiiii 

III. 

Then  they'd  solemnly  sit  on  this  newly  found  case 
And  determine  with  speed  both  his  name  and  his  race ; 
When  a  vote  then  they'd  take — without  fail  they'd 

elect — 
And  so  then  the  poor  candidate,  out  of  respect 


Rocking  for  Gold.    The  Old  Hand  Method. 

For  the  "Powers  that  Be/'  in  this  union  so  strong, 
Must  a  story  tell,  buy  a  drink,  else  sing  a  song. 

IV. 

So  then  quickly  they'd  issue  full  membership  card 
And  Chief  Barney'd  then  call  upon  Lardis,  the  guard. 
To  quick  serve  refreshments  to  the  candidate  bold, 
And  his  poke  then  they'd  Hghten,  some  dollars,  I'm 
told. 


16    UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

iiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiimii iiiiuniiiiniiiiiiriniuiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuinmiiiiiiu 

Then   they'd  "Hail  to   the  candidate,"   "Hail  to   the 

Chief," 
Who  has  ne'er  felt  approaching  the  sere  yellow  leaf. 


V. 


So  the  union  has  flourished,  grown  old,  and  waxed 

strong, 
And,   though   many  years   passed,   Barney   does   not 

belong 
To  the  crowd  whose  "heads  hang  down,"  stUl  proudly 

he'll  hold 
His  square  chin  in  the  air,  like  a  brave  knight  of  old. 
But  at  last  he's  decided  the  "outside"  he'd  see 
And  he'd  gather  fresh  pointers  on  "how  to  brew  tea." 


VI. 


So  no  more  he'll  be  seen  in  this  favorite  role. 

Will  this  genial  gentleman,  big  hearted  soul; 

For  he's  rawnching,  you  see,  "chasing  chickens"  by 

now; 
And  if  you'd  learn  rawnching,  he'll  sure  teach  you  how : 
For  the  union's  gone  busted ;  Chief  Barney,  I  fear, 
O'er  the  squaws  left  behind  him  sheds  never  a  tear. 


VII. 


So  a  slab  we'll  inscribe  with  his  name,  and  the  date 
When  he  passed  out  so  quiet  and  quick  shut  the  gate ; 


THE  PASSING  OF  BARNEY  MAGEE.   17. 

lUIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIItllUIIIIMMIMMIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIUIIIIMMIIIIIIMIMIIIUMIIIIlllinillllMIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIINIIIIIMIMIIinillinilllllUIIIIIIIIIIUIUIIinim 

Left  the  union  to  mourn  its  Hyas  Skookum  Chief, 
Tho  he  still  wont  acknowledge  the  sere  yellow  leaf ; 
And  a  badge  of  deep  mourning  all  squaws  now  must 

wear: 
Hyas  Skookum  Chief  Barney,  he  sure  was  a  bear. 


MY  MAN. 

(Written  as  a  conipanion  piece  to  R.  W.  Service's 
"Squaw  Man.") 

The  pale  moon's  shining  brightly 
And  the  breezes  whisper  lightly 
Through  the  wind-harp  spruce    boughs    of  a    Rocky 
Mountain  dell; 
And  a  lonely  squaw  sits  waiting 
While  a  basket  she  is  plaiting, 
As  she's  waiting,  with  a  patience  no  white  tongue  could 
ever  tell — 

Who's  she  waiting  for? — "My  Man." 

II. 

Thro'  no  courtship  was  she  won. 
Daughters  of  the  Native  Son 
Do  not  expect  the  courtship  fair  sisters  love  so  well. 
Tho'  she  heard  no  wedding  march; 
Tho'  she'd  never  seen  a  church ; 
She's  "his  till  death"  as  surely  as  tho  blessed  by  wed- 
ding bell. 

Calls  him  husband?   No— "My  Man." 


MY    MAN.  19. 

,„„„„u,i,iiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiimiiiimiinmiMinimmiiiiimiiiii iMinmiMMMiiiiiiiiuiiiiiimiiimiimi iiii iiiimMiNiiiinmiiiiim miiiiniinimimiim 

III. 

Hundreds  of  miles  her  bridal  tour; 
A  dog  team  for  her  coach  and  four; 
Her  footman  at  the  gee  pole  mushed,  o'er  many  weary 
miles : 
Blankets  and  skins  her  wedding  gown; 
Mukluks  for  shoes,  with  beads  from  town ; 
All  fashioned  in  a  hand-made  way — 'twas  far  from  Lon- 
don style. 

Who's    the    bridegroom?     Just— "My 
Man." 


IV. 


He's  a  king,  a  hero,  bolder 
Than  all  the  knights  of  old  were, 
In  her  untutored,  love  blind  eyes,  as  she  scans  him,  toe 
to  crown. 
He's  skillful  with  the  paddle ; 
He's  a  Centaur  in  the  saddle; 
His  raw  skins  all  the  primest  when  the  fur  man  comes 
to  town. 

Who  is  he?  Only  just— "My  Man." 


V. 


When  he  migrates  to  the  town 
She  will  patiently  sit  down 
And  wait  his  coming  home  to  her,  chock  full  of  hooch 
and  beer; 


20    UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

uiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiir iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimimiiiiiii 

And  her  baskets  she  will  plait, 
Even  tho'  the  hour  is  late, 
And  scorn  white  sister's  symi>athy,  who  tries  her  lot  to 
cheer; 

For  she's  proud  of  him — "My  Man." 

VI. 


In  town  he's  "but  a  squaw-man" ; 
But  to  her,  tho  all  the  world  ran 

K 


Mmmd^ 


V  '^,.  -^1- 


And  Stake  us  out  a  Claim. 
Past  in  panoram,  she'd  ne'er  see  his  equal  nor  his 
peer; 
And  altho,  when  he's  in  town, 
She  well  knows  that  he'll  put  down 
Many  glasses  of  the  hooch  that  she  has  learned  so  well 
to  fear, 

Still  she  answers — "He's  My  Man." 


MY    MAN.  21, 

lllllllllinillllllllllllllllllllllinilllllllJIIIIiniUIMIIinilllNMIUIIIIIllllUIMIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIMIIMIIIIIIMIinilMIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIMIIIIIIMIIIMII 

VII. 

In  the  grey  dawn  he  will  come, 
Suff'ring  woefully  from  rum; 
With  smell  of  hooch  and  dance  hall  perfumes  telling 
of  his  night. 
Yet  she'll  nurse  him  with  the  care 
That  his  mother  would,  if  there, 
Never  thinking  that  HIS  actions  could  be  anything  but 
right. 

You  ask  her  why? — "He's  My  Man." 
VIII. 

Oh,  ladies  fair  that  we  have  known 
Beyond  the  glare  of  tinsel  town! 
When  painted  Jesebels  have  held  YOUR  "law-hitched" 
man  in  thrall; 
Do  you  think  that  you  could  then — 
Knowing  well  where  he  has  been — 
Should  gossips  ask  you,  bravely  shield  him — answer, 
one  and  all, 

"Mind  your  business.  He's  MY  MAN." 


THE  CHECHACO  GIRL. 

A  girl  from  old  England  c^ne  into  the  Yukon 
The  country  to  see  and  her  fortune  to  make. 

She  had  lived  in  big  houses  in  "Merrie  old  England," 
Still  she  came  to  the  Yukon  to  earn  a  grubstake, 

II. 

With  eyes  that  were  dark,  fearless,  frolicsome,  whole- 
some; 

A  smile  that  was  winsome,  free  given  to  all ; 
A  carriage  at  once  that  was  stately  and  lissome ; 

Her  hair  tightly  coiled  in  a  neat  Uttle  ball. 

III. 

She  soon  was  ensconsed  in  a  snug  situation. 

Where  old  country  ways  she  did  quick  introduce; 

Made  butler,  cook,  housemaid,  each  keep  their  station, 
And  did  it  all  smoothly  and  without  abuse. 


THE  CHECHACO  GIRL.  23. 

iiniiini iiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiti iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii i iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiJiniiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiimiiiiiiiiiinimiiiiiii 

IV. 

All  the  young  men  of  town  she  soon  had  around  her ; 

She  scorned  their  advances,  while  accepting  their 
gift. 
She  swore  that  she  never  would  marry  a  rounder, 

And  then  she  decided  she'd  give  them  a  lift. 


V. 


She  smiled  on  them  all  as  they  gathered  around  her. 
And  eyes  of  the  goo  goo  brand  deftly  she'd  slip ; 

And  soft,  honeyed  phrases  she  gently  would  murmur. 
But  never  a  kiss  could  they  press  on  her  lip. 


VI. 


With  chewing  gum,  candy,  fruit,  theatre  tickets. 
They  showered  this  girlie  from  over  the  sea ; 

One  after  another  they  all  got  the  ricketts, 

From  dancing  attendance  on  fair  Miss  Marie. 


VII. 


Of  pitcher  and  well  there's  an  old  and  trite  saying 
She'll  do  well  to  think  of  while  playing  this  game. 

After  too  many  trips  the  pitcher  gets  broken 

And  no  longer'U  hold  anything — men  are  the  same. 


24     UNDER   THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

iiMiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii I iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiimiiinii 

VIII. 

They  soon  tire  of  girls  who  take  all  and  give  nothing 
Save  goo  goo  eyes,  smiles,  and  a  nod  on  the  street ; 

Who  like  a  good  supper,  with  wine  that  is  frothing, 
Then  quickly  forget,  as  a  new  friend  they  greet. 


IX. 


As  time  passes,  chechaco's  changed  to  a  sourdough ; 

From  girl  to  old-maidenhood's  not  a  far  cry. 
Said  one  to  another,  after  she'd  bade  them  go. 

She's  only  a  flirt,  sure  not  worth  a  try. 


X. 


For  our  men  of  the  Northland  love  like  a  lion 

And  woo  with  a  fierceness  that  brooks  no  defeat; 

But,  once  branded  flirt,  there  is  never  a  scion 

Of  Northland  she  ever  could  draw  to  her  feet. 


XI. 


Chechaco  no  longer,  her  days  now  are  lonely. 

No  longer  she  has  twenty  strings  to  her  beaux. 

Flirtation  days  past,  she  now  thinks  that  the  only 
Truth  left  in  the  world  is,  "we  reap  as  we  sow." 


u 


THE  DOWNFALL  OF  SOLO  BILL. 

Now  Solo  Bill  came  down  the  hill 

From  bench  claim  Nimiber  Three 
Determined  that  he'd  drink  his  fill — 

And  king  of  solo  be. 
But  when  he'd  hoisted  in  a  few 

At  Lockie's  comer  bar. 
He  then  decided  mountain  dew 

Was  much  too  tame,  by  far. 

IL 

At  table  round  he  then  sat  down — 

He'd  cashed  his  check,  you  see ; 
And  vowed  he'd  play  till  break  of  day 

But  winner  he  would  be. 
Then  came  along  the  music  man. 

With  fingers  soft  and  white 
That  swiftly  o'er  the  iv'ries  ran — 

He's  not  on  shift  tonight. 


26     UNDER   THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

Jiuiiniimiiiiiiiiiiiiiriii iiiniuiMiiiiiMiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMMiiiiiiininiiiJiitiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniMJiiiiiiiiiiKiiiiiiiiiiii 

III. 

And  quickly,  when  he  joined  the  game, 

Bill's  stack  of  chips  grew  tall, 
Till  Carp  got  up  and  changed  his  seat — 

His  back  against  the  wall. 
"No  more  you'll  lead  thro  me,"  he  cried, 

"You  can  not  play  the  game." 
But  Bill,  with  growing  stack,  replied, 

"Of  you'll  I'll  say  the  same." 

IV. 

So,  hour  by  hour,  the  game  went  on 

With  varying  success; 
Bill  piled  more  chips  his  stack  upon. 

While  Carpenter's  grew  less. 
Till  Fred  picked  up  a  hand  at  last; 

Decided  that  he'd  frog; 
For  now,  you  see,  when  Bill  had  passed, 

He  thot,  I'm  lucky  dog. 


But  Carpenter  looked  up  and  smiled; 

"I'll  solo,  hearts,"  he  said. 
They  played  the  hand,  and  Carp,  he  piled 

High  up,  his  stack  of  red. 
"Now  who  can't  play  the  game?"  said  he, 

"A  workman  by  his  chips 
Is  judged."   Bill  came  back  quick,  with  glee, 

"A  driver  by  his  whips. 


THE  DOWNFALL  OF  SOLO  BILL.    27. 

miiiiiiiniuinnuuiiiiiinniiuiiiiuiuiiiinNMiiJMiiiimNJUiMiMHJHniiiiinMiMiiiiiiiiJiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiHnMiMMJMUinMniiiiiiiwuiiliiimniiiiiiimninimmiiiN^^^^ 

VI. 

"1*11  whip  you  quickly  into  line 

When  Fred  is  leading  thro; 
Your  solo  then  wont  look  so  fine; 

The  hand  WONT  be  'all  blue.' 
Your  lonely  ten,  you  see,  we'll  get, 

While  ours  we'll  surely  save." 
And  when  he  wanted,  then,  to  bet. 

Some  little  odds  they  gave. 

VII. 

The  game  waxed  fast  and  furious; 

Of  drinks  they'd  not  a  few; 
And  had  the  hooch  been  spurious, 

Instead  of  mountain  dew. 
My  story,  I  regret  to  say, 

Need  never  have  been  told. 
Of  how  Bill  lost  the  game  that  day 

Thro  being  overbold. 

VIII. 

Carp  dealt  the  cards,  Fred  frog'd,  you  see. 

And  Lochlan,  canny  Scot, 
Look'd  o'er  his  hand — "Solo  myself 

And  rake  in  that  fat  pot ; 
If  not  I'll  go  upon  the  shelf 

And  stay  there  till  I  rot." 


28    UNDER   THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

mUUimillllllllllllllMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINIIIIIIIUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIH 

IX. 

The  cards  broke  very  hard  that  time ; 

They  each  had  missing  suits, 
And  hard  it  is  to  put  in  rhyme 

Of  that  hand,  the  sad  fruits ; 
For  Bill  had  gone  clean  broke  that  day 

On  solo  hearts,  you  see, 
And  hadn't  beans  enough  to  pay 

The  players,  one,  two,  three. 


THE  AUTO  CRAZE  STRIKES  DAWSON. 

(These  cars  are  actually  being  driven  today  in  Dawson 
by  the  Old  Sourdoughs  named) 

Now  Murray  Eads,  he  drives  a  Ford, 

Good  Doctor  Gillis>  too. 
And  Billy  Armstrong's  Overland 

Will  carry  quite  a  few. 
The  Guggies'  Loco'bile  and  Zust, 

When  Georgie  Potter  drives, 
Make  "Bal"  and  "Billie"  take  the  dust. 

Unless  they  risk  their  lives. 

II. 

And  Pretty,  with  his  little  Metz, 

Joe  Boyle  declared  he'd  race. 
The  little  "Bean,"  however,  gets 

Away  at  such  a  pace. 
When  Tip  O'Neill  they  overtook. 

And  left  him  on  their  right. 
They  passed  him  in  a  cloud  of  dust, 

Just  like  a  streak  of  light. 


30    UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

lumiiMiiiiiijnjMiiinininjiiniiiiiiiiMiiiniMiiiiMniiuniHMiMiiiiiMJiiMininMiiMMiiiriMiiiniiiiiMMiMiMiiiiuniniiiiiiiiiiMiiMMirinininMMJiiiiriiMiininiiiiiMmiMM 

III. 

Rystogi,  in  his  Overland, 

Dick  Lanning,  in  his  Stude ; 
McCarthy's  Ford  was  well  in  hand, 

Till  J.  J.'s  Indian  slewed 
In  front  of  Titus,  and  'twas  there 

That  driving  skill  v^ras  shown; 
But  safely  soon  they  all  reached  Bear, 

Eight  miles  from  Dawson  town. 

IV. 

Gus  Johnson's  Ford  was  out  of  gas ; 

McCowan  picked  a  nail, 
But  Smithy's  Hupp  had  room  to  pass, 

E'en  tho  'twas  narrow  trail. 
When  Charlie  Dblan's  rotary 

At  last  arrived  in  town, 
McGill  (Overland  votary) 

Declared  he'd  run  him  down. 

V. 

So  first  they  oiled  up  well  their  throats — 

Engines  were  running  fine — 
Then  donned  their  classy  motor  coats. 

And  started  down  the  line. 
But  Emil,  with  Pick's  Mitchell  Six, 

They  chanced  to  overtake — 
They  quickly  passed,  and  on  the  creeks 

They  stopped,  their  thirst  to  slake. 


AUTO  CRAZE  STRIKES  DAWSON.    31. 

miittiimminiiuiniiniiiMiiMniuiiiMiiniMiiiniJiJiininiJuiiiMiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiMiMMiiMiiiiiiiiMiiiniiiiiiMiiiniiiiiMiiiMiiiJiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinimiiiuiiiiijnii^^ 

VI. 

Jo€  Segbers,  as  McGill's  best  man, 

Enjoyed  the  ride  that  night, 
Till  in  the  postoffice  they  nan 

And  quickly  doused  the  light. 
Philp,  too,  in  Metz,  the  road  doth  cruise, 

And  nightly  takes  the  air; 
Doc.  LaChapelle,  with  coach  dog,  Bruce, 

Makes  calls  on  Patients  fair. 


VI. 


Thus  do  the  Dawson  auto  cranks 

In  swift  procession  run, 
With  frequent  stops,  to  fill  their  tanks. 

Thro  Summer's  long  days'  sun; 
Nor  in  the  Winter  hesitate 

The  snowy  trail  to  try; 
However  low  be  the  tanks'  state. 

Their  throats  will  not  go  dry. 


THE  DREAMSTER. 

Some  folks  say  that  he's  touched  by  the  finger  of  God ; 

That  his  brain's  not  all  there,  so  to  speak. 
When  he  passes,  they  give  him  a  smile  and  a  nod — 

If  he  stops,  though,  they  quickly  will  sneak 
Out  of  sight  round  the  corner,  or  in  through  a  door ; 

For  they  plainly  don't  wish  to  be  seen 
In  close  conversation  with  the  man  that  has  sworn 

In  a  barber's  chair  he'd  never  lean 
Till  the  day  should  arrive  that  he  no  more  would 
strive — 

Till  the  world  would  accept,  and  would  pay 
For  his  theories  bold,  of  how  God  placed  the  gold — 

Although  hidden — in  reach  of  its  "ray." 


II. 


Diagrams  geometric,  on  parchmental  scroll; 

Circles,  ovals,  elliptics  and  such, 
He  sure  figures  will  tell  what  is  inside  the  knoll, 

And  tho  far  under  ground,  he's  in  touch 


Dr    Hayden,  author,  scientist  and  explorer. 

Adams. 


A  brilliant  man.     Photo  by 


THE    DREAMSTER.  33. 

iniitMiiiiiMiiiMiiiiiiiMiiiiiiMiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiMiiiiiiiiiNiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiniiiiniiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiniiiiniuiiuiiiiiiiiiniiNiininiJiiniiiiiuiiiiiiiiHiiMiiin 

With  the  hidden  deposits  of  mineral  ore, 

And  lost  channels  'neath  mountains  he  feels: 
From  the  "Hindu  Fakeers,"  with  their  wierd  occult 
lore, 

He  has  stripped  all  the  magical  seals. 
Tho  he  lives  in  the  present,  his  soul's  in  the  past; 

Mid  inscriptions  and  drawings  so  old ; 
And  he  figures  the  force  makes  the  world  whirl  so  fast 

With  a  pencil,  whose  strokes  sure  are  bold. 


HI. 


The  aurora,  he  says,  is  electrical  force ; 

In  straight  lines  and  in  circles  it  runs; 
It  is  light  without  heat,  and  it  follows,  of  course, 

That  it  guides  earth,  moon,  stars  and  the  suns. 
From  one  force  in  a  circle,  one  in  a  straight  line. 

An  elliptic  'tis  easy  to  form — 
'Tis  this  dominant  force  that  makes  the  sun  shine, 

And  it  marks  out  the  path  of  the  storm : 
It  changes  the  seasons  and  it  makes  day  and  night, 

For  it  causes  the  world  to  go  'round! 
'Tis  the  source  of  all  life,  and  its  terrible  might 

Is  exerted  with  never  a  sound. 


IV. 


Tho  my  hair  is  so  long,  and  my  beard  it  has  grown 
Since  the  would-be  w^ise  showed  what  they  knew, 

They  will  never  be  cut  until  fully  I've  shown 
That  this  force  holds  the  universe  true. 


34     UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

liiilliliiJirriiiiiiMMiiiniiMiiiMiiiiijiininnun»NijiiininiMniMinnMMiMiMiiiHiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiuiiiniiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiJiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiii^ 

That  the  ancient  Egyptians,  with  all  their  lost  arts, 

Were  sure  nothing  ahead  of  our  day ; 
That  the  Hindus  of  old,  with  their  tablets  and  charts, 

They  knew  not  any  more  than  we  may: 
That  the  forces  of  nature  are  constant  and  true, 

But  ihey  still  may  be  harnessed  by  man: 
That  polarity  changed  can  be,  easy,  by  you ; 

And  'lectricity  's  easy  to  can. 

V. 

The  location  of  mine'rals,  'tis  easy  to  see. 

Can  be  shov/n  by  the  "ray"  they  give  out; 

And  beneath  yonder  mountain,  what  e'er  there  may 
be- 
E'en  the  lost  channels'  deep  hidden  route — 

May  be  shown  by  an  instrument,  delicate,  fine; 
'Twill  record  softest  zephyrs  of  air; 

It  would  tell  if  the  pole  of  the  earth's  out  of  line, 
By  so  much  as  a  delicate  hair; 

*Twill  record  the  formation  thro  thousands  of  feet. 
And  if  gold  's  present  there,  it  will  show; 

You  can  prospect  with  this  while  you're  dressed  all  so 
neat, 
Spic  and  span  from  your  head  to  your  toe. 

VI. 

So  what  now  need  I  care  for  the  length  of  my  hair, 
Or  what  those  around  me  are  saying; 

For  soon,  now,  I'll  be  rich,  and  with  never  a  care 
For  noise  of  these  donkeys  a  'braying. 


THE    DREAMSTER. 


35. 


MninjiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMniiriiiniiMniiMiiiiiiMiiiiMiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiJiiiiiiiiiiMiiiMiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiniMiiiiiiiiiJMniiMiMMinniiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiinmiiiiiM 

The  occult  laws  of  India  I'll  then  set  to  work 

To  make  wise  men  from  babbling  fools ; 
From  the  Heathen  Chinee,  with  his  ne'er  ending  smirk, 

I'll  get  wisdom  ahead  of  all  schools. 
The  millenium  dawn  will  be  nearer  by  far, 

And  knowledge  more  firmly  established, 
When  the  book  I  have  written,  like  light  from  fixed 
star. 

Spreads  wisdom  's  glow,  as  'twill  when  published. 


^""(, 


HER  TEMPERATURE  'S  FORTY  BELOW. 

("Old  Glory,"  of  the  Mounted  Police  Force  of  early 
days,  plays  doctor.) 

Of  all  of  the  tales  that  I've  heard  of  the  North 
And  of  men  who've  fought  cold,  wind  and  snow — 

Who've  travelled  the  lone  trails  that  lead  back 
and  forth 
In  the  land  where  the  polar  winds  blow, 

There's  none  that  can  equal  this  tale  of  a  cow. 
With  her  temp'rature  forty  below. 


XL 


"Old  Glory,"  so  bold,  of  the  Mounted  Police, 
Took  good  care  of  the  live  stock  so  fine, 

Extolling  their  virtues  he  never  would  cease, 
And  he  kept  their  coats  always  ashine; 

Till  on  one  cold  day  bossie  wouldn't  eat  hay 
And  some  fever  developed,  they  say. 


HER  TEMP'RATURE  FORTY  BELOW.  37. 

iiiMniiiiMiriiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiininiiiiMiiiiMiiMiiJiiiMiMiiiiiMiniiiiiuiniMiiiMiniiiMitiitiiiiiiiitiMiiiiiiniiuiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiim 

III. 

Not  being  a  doctor,  "Old  Glory,"  I  hear, 
RepKDrted  the  case  to  Headquarters. 

"The  cow's  very  sick,  sorr,  and  sadly  I  fear 
She'll  soon  list  among  the  departers." 

Then  swift  came  the  order  that  started  the  row — 
"The  thermometer — quick — take  her  temp'rature  now." 


IV. 


Not  being  a  doctor,  as  I  said  before, 
"Old  Glory"  had  not  had  much  practice. 

He  looked  the  thermometer  over,  and  swore, 
And  sad  to  relate,  but  the  fact  is. 

He  didn't  know  which  end  to  put  in  her — mouth 
And  fin'ly  decided  to  lessen  the  drouth. 


V. 


A  nip  then  he  took  from  a  bottle,  I  fear, 
Then  once  more  he  looked  the  thing  over. 

A  nip  or  two  more,  as  he  felt  somewhat  queer, 
Then  decided  the  long  end  he'd  cover; 

For  they  both  looked  alike,  save  one  had  some 
marks. 
So,  thought  he,  "Major's  up  to  one  of  his  larks." 


38     UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

iiKmMiiiiiniiiiiiiiuiMMiiiiMiiiiiiiimMininiiriMiiniMMMiMiMiiiiiinMiiiiiiiiiiiiJnniiuiMniiiiiijmuiuniiNiiJiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiirnMiiiiiiimiuriiiiiiiiimi^^^^ 

VI. 

He  patiently  waited  a  minute  or  more, 
Marking  time  by  a  watch  that  was  old, 

Then  back  to  the  major  when  he  read  the  score, 
And  reported,  at  least  so  I'm  told, 

"The  cow  has  a  cold,  'tis  not  fever,  you  know, 
For  her  temp'rature's  forty  below." 


FOUR  HEROES  BOLD. 

Now  we  meet  on  the  shore  of  Lake  LaBarge 
In  a  cove  that  was  sheltered,  you  see, 

The  wind  blew   fierce    down    the    mountainous 
gorge- 
Witch  ridden  waves,  in  devilish  glee, 

Pounded  and  thundered  the  base  of  the  cliff 
And  sucked  back  o'er  the  beach  with  a  sigh. 

When  'round  the  point,  in  a  ricketty  skiff, 
Came  four  men,  with  a  sail  hoisted  high. 


II. 


We  quick  reached  the  beach,  and  sent  out  a  hail 
With  the  strength  of  a  terrible  fear. 

To  quick  put  about,  and  take  in  that  sail 
'Ere  the  mouth  of  the  cove  they  should  clear. 

Danger  and  death  lurked  abroad  in  the  air, 
But  they  laughed  it  to  scorn  and  kept  on: 

Drove  straight  for  the  cliff  in  front  of  them  there, 
And  we  surely  did  think  they  were  gone. 


M    UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

niiiiiniiuimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiihiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiii iiiiiiu iiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiimi 

III. 

The  Devil,  it  seems,  takes  care  of  his  own, 
For  as  quick  as  the  boat  struck  the  beach, 

Camp  outfit  and  tools  went  down  like  a  stone. 
Though  in  safety  they  managed  to  reach 

A  cleft  in  the  cliff,  and  beach  that  ran  down 
And  afforded  them  standing  room  each. 


IV. 


Right,  left,  behind,  the  rock  rose  like  a  wall. 
While  the  angry  waves  roared  at  the  front. 

They  clung  to  the  boat,  for  it  was  their  all. 
And  they  bailed  out  that  rotten  old  punt; 

Then  watched  their  chance,  on  a  wave  not  too  high 
They  pushed  off,  and  all  scrambled  aboard ;     . 

Fighting  for  life,  while  we  heaved  a  deep  sigh 
And  commended  their  souls  to  the  Lord. 


V. 


Then  our  party  of  three,  Pete  Mullen,  me. 
And  a  prospector  long,  gaunt,  and  old, 

Stood  watching  the  struggle,  longing  to  see 
The  poor  wretches  win  out,  who  're  so  bold. 

They  paddled,  they  rowed,  they  cussed  and  they 
prayed 
And  at  last  they  won  clear  of  the  bluff ; 

A  landing  then  made  and  three  days  they  stayed, 
Till  the  waters  no  longer  were  rough. 


FOUR  HEROES  BOLD.  U. 

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIJI IllllUlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllltllllllll Illlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll 

VI. 

Then  back  to  our  fires  and  wickiups  three 
And  our  dinner  of  bacon  and  beans 

We  went,  and  were  glad  it  had'nt  been  we 
That  must  sleep  in  our  water-soaked  jeans. 

Round  camp  fire  that  night,  with  pipes  all  alight, 
And  all  rolled  in  our  blankets  so  snug, 

Our  hearts  sure  were  light,  our  faces  so  bright 
And  of  coffee  we'd  many  a  mug. 

VI. 

And  stories  we  told,  of  days  that  were  old, 
And  of  hardships  on  many  a  trail ; 

Of  nights  that  were  dark  and  days  that  were  cold, 
And  of  long  months  without  any  mail; 

But  all  the  tales  that  of  danger  were  told, 
And  of  storms  of  wind,  rain,  snow  and  hail, 

None  that  could  equal  the  four  heroes  bold 
Who  came  down  the  lake  under  full  sail. 


JO  M'FRAU  ON  "PAI'NEER  BALL/'  DAWSON. 


D'  Yukon  or  Pai'neer,  tonight  she  '11  hoi'  one  gran' 
"Hat  'Ome," 
Han'  eef  you  would  see  faces  braight,  from  heel- 
saide  you  weel  roam. 
T'rouhaout  th'  year  shes  mak'  good  cheer  hon  reglar 
meetin'  night, 
Wen  Pai'neers  hoi'  forget  th'  gol'  han  seet,  segars 
halight, 
Han  pass  th'  time  with  tales  o'  mine,  han  hont  an'  feesh 
once  more 
From  Lac  LaBarge  to  Skag^ay  taoun;  They'll 
draw  hon  mem'ry's  store 
Han  pass  th'  hev'ning  ver'  ple'saant,  wit'  bacon,  bean 
an'  beer; 
Han  travel  once  more  ho'er  th'  trail  from  Skagway 
taoun  t'  here. 


JO    M'FRAU.  JtS. 

MlimillinilllllllUUIIIIIIIIIIIIIinllllMIIIIIMIIIIIIIINIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIMIIIMIIIIIIMIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIinilMIIIMIMIMIIIIIJIMIIIIMIMIMIIirMIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII^ 

II. 

But  'tain't  been  'nough,  Hoi'    mans    shes    t'ink    hon 
womans  han'  d'  keed; 
Shes  mak'  one  gran'  Hat  'Ome,  'ees  say,  han ;  den 
wie  lif  d'  leed. 
So  den  shes  mak'  one  gran'  prepare — for  weeks  *ccs 
mak'  readee, 
Han'  w'en  d'  night  shes  com'  you'll  fin'  to  heat 
dere  'ees  plantee. 
D'  floor  shes  mak'  polesh  lak  glass,  d'  museek  'ee'll 
com'  too; 
Wit'  story,  song,  han'  social  glass  she'll  HEN- 
TERTAIN  a  few. 
Dem  Hoi'  Pai'neer,  from  far  an'  near,  'ees  moosh  d' 
trail  tonaight. 
For  eef  'TEES  honly  once  a  year,  she's  kep'  d' 
mem'ry  braight. 

III. 

Den  Tom  Ho'Brine  shes  tak'  d'  stan'  han'  tell  'em,  one 
an'  hall, 
Dat  dey  shall  mak'  one  beeg  enjoy  at  dis  Gran* 
Pai'neer  Ball. 
D'  museek  'ees  begeen  t'  play,  han'  den,  upon  d'  floor, 
Een  Hoi'  tarn'  dance  we  soon  will  sway,  jus'  lak' 
we're  yong  once  mor'. 
Quadreels,  coteelions,  V'ginia  reels,  we'll  dance  once 
mor'  tonaight. 
For  dees  ees  one  gran'  Pai'neer  Ball,  hoi'  taimes  to 
keep  halaight. 


44     UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

niiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiJiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiJiiiiiiiiiiMii hiitiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiNiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinmiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiraiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniMiii i 

Han'  den  we'll  tell  some  story,  too,    'bout    mooshin' 
down  d'  trail 
Han'  Jerry  Doody  '11  seeng  one  song,  'baout  trav'l- 
in'  hon  d'  rail. 

IV. 

Han'  den  we'll  go  once  more  down  stair — Haur  crowd 
shes  get  so  beeg 
Hon  'all  hof  Moose  we  mus'  prepare  for  dance,  an' 
d'  beeg  feed. 


>.  .atii'^-'-^ 


Dem  Ol'  Paineer  from  far  an'  near,  ees  Moosh  de  Trail — 


D'  ladies  hall  'ees  breeng  som'    caik — d'    mans    shes 
breeng  som'  bean. 
An'  Brother  Palm  th'  coffee  '11  mak' — lak  hoi'  taim 
eett  weel  seem. 
D'  leetle  keed,  shes  heat  'ees  feel  w'en  hat  d'  Pai'neer 
Ball, 
Han'  ron  an'  play,  an'  dance  an'  seeng,  lak'  ees 
now'ere  hat  all. 


JO    M'FRAU.  45. 

iniiriMMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIMIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIMIIIIIIIJIIIIIMMIIIINIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIMIJIIIIIIIIIIIIinilMIIIIMIIIIIIMIIIIIIMIIMIIIIIIIIIUlM 

An'  hoi'  folks,  she'll  go  back  hup  stair  an'  dance  teel 
break  of  day; 
Han'  then  we'll  all  moosh-on  back  'ome  hanother 
year  to  stay. 

V. 

T'rouhaut  th'  year  long  haurs  we'll  cheer  wit'  mem'ries 
hof  dis  naight ; 
Hof  dance,  han'  song,  an'  story,    too,    an'    many 
faces  braight. 
From  hev'ry  kontry,  hev'ry  flag,  dem  Pai'neer  shes 
been  com', 
Han'  w'en  eet  comes  to  hentertain  they're  not  to 
be  hautdone. 
Dat  Pai'neer  Ball,  she  bes'  of  hall,  d'  whole  long  winter 
t'rough. 
For  Pai'neer  WONTT  tak'  seat  behin'  shes  WEEL 
NOT  been  hautdo. 
An'  so  we'll  hall  moosh-on  back  'ome  han'  stay  teel 
sommer  '11  com' — 
Han'  den  we'll  com'  to  taoun  once    more    w'en 
Pai'neer  Day  comes  roun'. 


YOUKON  AT  THE  FRONT. 

War's  wild  alarm  has  sounded  far  and  wide; 
An  enemy  the  gauntlet  has  flung  down. 

Where'er  the  British  flag  floats  o'er  the  tide; 
In  every  hamlet  'neath  the  British  crown, 

Brave  men  are  hast'ning  to  the  country's  aid; 
The  music  of  the  fife  and  drum  is  heard ; 

For  ruthless  German  bandit  MUST  be  stayed, 
And  ev'ry  patriotic  heart  is  stirred. 

II. 

Fair  Yukon  in  the  'frozen  northland"  lies. 
But  that's  no  reason  she  will  lag  behind. 

Where  valor's  counted,  'twill  be  found  she  vies 
With  any  part  'f  our  empire  you  can  find. 

So  up  spake  one  named  Joseph  Whiteside  Boyle- 
I'll  see  that  Yukon's  represented  there. 

A  Yukon  Gun  Corps  '11  help  our  foes  to  foil, 
So  fifty  men  we'll  add  to  Britain's  share. 


YUKON  AT    THE   FRONT.  U7. 

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIi;i!IUIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIMIIIIIIJIIIIIIIIJIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIUIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIII^ 

III. 

For  this  north  country's  sure  been  good  to  me; 
I  owe  to  her  a  debt  I'll  ne'er  repay. 

Although  I've  struggled  long  and  hard  to  be 
In  the  position  that  I  am  today, 

I'll  ne'er  forget  hard  days  with  pick  and  pan, 
When  grubstake  looked  to  me  a  mine  of  wealth ; 

When  swift  away  the  hard  earned  dollars  ran 
And  all  that  I  had  left  to  me  was  health. 

IV. 

It  seemed  Dame  Fortune  knew  not  how  to  smile, 
But  still  I  plugged  along,  and  fought  my  way; 

And  not  until  I  saw  the  tailing  pile 
From  mammoth  dredges,  growing,  day  by  day ; 

Then — not  till  then — I  knew  I'd  struck  my  gait ; 
Knew  that  at  last  I'd  see  my  dreams  come  true — 

Dreams  of  a  Northland  truly  good  and  great — 
And  now  it  all  lies  spread  before  my  view. 

V. 

The  valley's  floor  is  up  torn  by  machine, 
Tho  man  made,  driv'n  by  nature's  greatest  force. 

The  gold  is  strip'd  from  hillside  and  ravine 
In  quantities  would  load  the  strongest  horse. 

With  -water's  giant  force,  from  mountain  lake 
The  mountain's  guts  are  ripp'd  and  scattered  far; 

When  season's  done,  we  from  the  riffles  take 
Much  gold,  where  hydro  giant  's  left  a  scar. 


48     UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

IIIIIIIIIMIIII IIIIIIIIIIIMJMMIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIinilllllllllllMIMIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIUIIIIIIMIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIMIIK 

VI. 

But  Empire's  call  is  ringing  in  my  ears. 
I  could  not  rest  in  peace,  did  I  delay. 

The  flag  I  honor  calls  for  volunteers, 
And,  tho  I'm  past  the  military  day, 

I  were  ungrateful  did  I  not  give  heed 
And  do  my  little  mite  the  best  I  may 

To  help  my  country,  in  her  time  of  need, 
And  thus  in  part,  my  debt  to  her  repay. 

VII. 

Then  quick  a  call  w^ent  out  for  volunteers ; 
A  bright,  new  quick-fire  gun  they'll  take  along; 

And,  tho  they're  NOT  the  Irish  Fusileers, 
You'll  find  them  face  the  cannon  with  a  song. 

Full  quickly,  then,  the  places  all  were  filled 
With    men   who've   braved   the    Northland's    fiercest 
death : 

Then  marched  and  trained  until    they    all    were 
skilled — 
All  Dawson  cheered  them,  with  a  single  breath. 

VIII. 

At  training  camp  they  cheered  our  skookum  men; 
In  feats  of  strength  all  comers  they  subdued. 

Till  news  of  battles  reached  the  camp,  and  then 
With  fighting  spirit  they  were  sure  imbued. 

I  pity  Germans  when  THEY  reach  the  front — 
This  bold  contingent  from  a  frozen  land — 


YUKON  AT  THE  FRONT.  U9. 

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIlnilllJIIIIIIIIinillllllllllllllllMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIUIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIMMIIIMII^ 

They'll  stand  THEIR  share  of    battle's    fiercest 
brunt 
And    make    us    proud    of    Boyle's    Gun  —  YUKON 
MANNED. 

IX. 

All  honor  to  the  man  behind  the  gun. 
All  honor  to  the  man  who  placed  him  there, 

Who,  tho  his  three  score  years  WERE  nearly  run, 
So  willingly  contributed  his  share. 

Of  Boyle's  Gun  Corps,  the  Yukon  well  may  feel 
That  pride  which  justly  comes  from  duty  done: 

They're  MEN,  who're  worthy  any  foeman's  steel: 
We're  proud  of  them — they're  proud — to  man  that  gun. 


LIFE. 

Life  is  like  the  Yukon  River 
Flowing  constant  towards  the  pole, 

Till  a  chill  like  that  of  winter 
Shroud  of  white  casts  o'er  the  whole — 

But  the  current  has  not  halted; 
Stronger  still  the  undertow — 

Bye  and  bye  the  warmth  of  summer 
Melts  away  the  icy  pall 

And  up  springs  another  flower, 
To  replace  the  ones  that  fall. 

Thus  the  bread  of  life  is  salted 
By  the  hope  we  soon  shall  go. 

II. 

Thus  our  lov'd  ones,  gone  before  us, 
Like  a  magnet  to  the  north 

Hold  us  true,  till  Heav'nly  chorus 
Bids  us  on  long  journey  forth — 

Forth,  to  where  our  lov'd  ones,  waiting, 
Beckon  us  with  open  arms — 

Thus  our  lives,  like  Yukon  River 
Flowing,  constant,  towards  the  pole. 

Constant  flow,  nor  halting  ever, 
'Neath  all  crosses,  toward  Great  Whole — 

Till  at  last,  these  earth  ties  breaking. 
Glad  we  go,  with  no  alarms. 


A  WINTER  NIGHT'S  DREAM. 

The  hills  are  stripped  of  coats  o'  green 

And  donning  robes  of  white; 
The  rivers  bound  in  icy  sheen 

For  six-months-winter  night. 
The  Northern  Lights  across  the  sky 

Are  dancing  back  and  forth; 
The  lakes  in  frozen  bondage  lie, 

Through  all  the  dreary  North. 


II. 


Drear,  did  I  say,  'tis  hardly  square 

To  thus  malign  a  land 
So  full  of  beauties  rich  and  rare, 

Spread  out  with  lavish  hand. 
With  treasure  trove  of  golden  wealth 

She  gluts  the  hands  that  seek; 
The  body  thrills  with  rugged  health; 

All  nature  seems  to  speak. 


52    UNDER   THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMII IIIIIIIIMIMIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIMIMIIIII Illllllllllllllllllllllllllll 

III. 

When  Nature,  like  a  woman,  lies 

Her  down  in  robes  of  white, 
Why  don't  we  look  with  lustful  eyes, 

Instead  of  shiv'ring  quite 
At  thought  of  six  months  in  her  arms, 

And  list'ning  to  the  voice 
That  lures  us  on  with  many  charms? 

Why:  That  SHOULD  BE  man's  choice. 

IV. 

Through  endless  days  we  toil  and  moil 

Beneath  the  summer's  sun; 
The  winter's  rest  is  soothing  oil, 

And  time  doth  quickly  run. 
The  sands  of  time  would  quickly  fly; 

We'd  soon  be  in  the  tomb, 
If  in  the  winter  sun  was  high 

Like  in  the  month  of  Jtme. 

V. 

While  winter  spreads  white  robe  de'nuit 

And  Jack  Frost  nips  our  nose, 
The  forest  glen  of  game  we  loot, 

And,  when  the  north  wind  blows. 
By  cheerful  fire  we  sit  and  plan, 

And  never  once  repine. 
We  take  our  rest  while  'ere  we  can, 

And  get  in  fettle  fine. 


A  WINTER  NIGHTS  DREAM.        53. 

iiliiiiiiiMiiiiiniiii iiiitiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiaiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiii iii;;iiii:iiiiim iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiimiiiiiiiiimiiiii n 

VI. 

The  rivers  soon,  with  giant  strength, 

Aside  will  hurl  their  bonds; 
And  creeks,  that  are  of  lesser  length, 

The  lakes,  and  smaller  ponds. 
Will  ripple  'neath  the  breezes  breath 

The  while  rare  flowers  grow: 
All  nature  shouts — "There  is  no  Death. 

I  SLEEP,  beneath  the  snow. 


Fishing  in  the  Klondyke  River. 

VII. 

Higher  and  higher  climbs  the  sun; 

Darkness  has  given  place 
To  days  that  twice  round  clock  do  run 


54     UNDER   THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

iiimiiiiiUMUimimiiinmiiiMKiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiJiiiniMiMniiniiiimiiniiiiiiiiiiiiMiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiMiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiniiiiiiiiiiii^ 

In  never  ending  chase. 
Flowers  that  sprouted  yesterday, 

Tomorrow  '11  be  in  bloom ; 
Hills  draped  will  be  in  colors  gay, 

All  fresh  from  Nature's  loom. 

VIII. 

With  pick  and  pan  then  forth  we'll  go 

And  stake  us  out  a  claim, 
And  work  from  dawn  till  sun  is  low. 

And  ne'er  again  we'll  blame 
Dame  Nature  for  long  winter's  rest, 

For  frost  and  ice  and  snow; 
For  men,  like  flowers  they  love  the  best, 

NEED  resting  up,  you  know. 

IX. 

And  so,  we  see,  Old  Winter's  sway 

O'er  frozen  Northland  white. 
Renews  our  youth,  and  seems  to  say, 

"You  see  that  I  am  right. 
"Without  my  nights  so  long  and  dark 

"You'd  never  rest  from  moil, 
"Nor  see  Aurora's  'lectric  spark, 

"Nor  yet  the  Huskies'  toil." 

X. 

"I  bring  NO  shroud.     A  robe  de'nuit; 

"With  which  I  cover  o'er 
"Poor  naked  Nature,  head  to  foot, 


A  WINTER  NIGHTS  DREAM.         55. 

IIIIIIIIIIIMimniMllrlunillUIIIIIIIMIJUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIMIIIIMiniMIHIIIIIIlnllllllllMIIIIIIMIIMIIIIIIIIIMMItlllllll^ 

"And  spread  upcn  the  floor 
"A  coverlet  of  fleecy  down 

"So  pure  and  milky  white 
"It  softens  even  night's  dark  frown, 

"And  aids  fair  Luna's  light." 

XL 

"Frown  not  upon  me,  I'm  Your  friend. 

"You  need  my  frost  so  bold. 
"When  Springtime  comes,  to  you  I'll  lend 

"Assistance  wtorth  ten  fold; 
"Water,  to  help  you  in  your  work — 

"To  help  you  get  the  gold. 
"  'Twill  work,  and  work,  and  never  shirk, 

"So  BLESS  the  Winter's  cold." 


THE  OLD  GROUCH, 

or  Daddy  Won't  Care. 

A  bachelor  once  met  a  girlie  fair 
And  loved  every  wave  of  her  sunny  brown  hair. 

Every  glance  of  her  eyes  set  his  heart  on  fire 
And  fool-love  fever  kept  on  going  higher. 

Tho  well  might  he  know  she  was  not  for  him 
The  fool  kept  hoping,  like  Sunny  Jim. 

Pleasures  and  joys  of  every  nature 
He'd  deny  himself  for  the  darling  creature. 

Tho  not  called  rich,  by  the  world,  in  money, 
He  freely  gave  all,  and  then  some,  to  "Honey," 

And  deemed  himself,  with  his  darling's  love, 
The  richest  man  under  heaven  above. 

Friends  he  had  few,  for  he  wasn't  convivial. 
For  that  he  cared  not,  'twas  matter  too  trivial. 

But  on  friends  of  hers,  with  a  lavish  hand 
He  would  spread  his  favors  and  deem  it  grand 

If  only  from  her  he  could  win  a  smile, 
Tho  she  smiled  on  others  all  the  while. 

"Let's  do  this,  or  do  that,  oh.  Daddy  won't  care; 
"Say  Daddikins,  why  DON'T  you  cut  your  hair? 

"You  look  like  sin  in  those  shabby  shoes, — 


THE  OLD  GROUCH.  57. 

uiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiH 

"Oh,  Daddy,  you've  SURELY  been  drinking  booze. 

"Can  we  go  tonight  to  the  dance,  or  show?" 
And  then — "See  all  the  fellows  we  had  in  tow. 

"This  one  said  that  and  that  one  said  so — 
"Why  ever  on  earth  did  Daddikins  go? 

"He  wasn't  shaved  and  he  wasn't  dressed — 
"No  matter  'f  he  DIDN'T  have  any  rest. 

"Lets  go  to  the  Suinmitt,  and  see  the  sun, 
"For  surely  we  girls  v^ill  have  lots  of  fun. 

"A  twenty  mile  drive,  or  thirty,  or  forty, 
"Is  nothing  so  we  don't  break  up  the  party. 

"One  dance  and  a  smile  is  enough  for  YOU 
"For  it  ain't  EVERY  day  that  we  see  this  crew," 

And  its  all  so  nice  and  nothing  the  matter 
Till  Daddy  asks  favors,  MY,  then  what  a  clatter. 

"The  darned  old  grouch,  what's  he  care  for  us? 
"We've  danced  all  night  and  the  house  in  a  muss; 

"He  ought  to  know  better'n  ask  anyone  up — 
"He  should  come  home  alone — be  content  with  a  sup. 

"We  want  money  for  this  and  for  that  and  the 
other ; 
"Why  don't  he  GET  IT  and  quit  his  bother. 

"No  matter  *f  business  ain't  going  right, 
"He  sh'd  throw  it  aside  when  he  comes  home  at  night 

"And  take  the  bunch  out  for  an  evening  of  joy," 
And  bring  along  some  OTHER  darling  boy 

To  sit  in  the  back  and  whisper  soft  nothings 
Which  Daddy  can't  hear,  for  the  engines'  puffings, — 

As  he  sits  in  front  and  talks  to  the  driver. 
And  over  the  trip  spends  more  than  one  fiver — 


58    UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 


lllimimnillllllllllllMIIIIIIIIIMMIIIIIIUIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIimllllllllllMIIIIIIIIIIIMniMIIIIIJIIIMIMIIIinjIIIMMIMIMIMIIIIIIIIIKHIIIMIIIIIIIMIIIIMIIIIMIIIIIIMII^ 

Or  pinch  us  and  squeeze  us  while  at  the  dance — 
If  Daddy  did  that  he'd  be  killed,  with  a  glance 

From  eyes  that  once  used  to  shine  with  love 
As  pure  and  sweet  as  the  Heaven  above; 

But  now  the  old  fool  is  getting  too  old; 
Other  arms  are  pleasanter  far  to  enfold. 

Honeyed  words  and   soft   nothings   spoke   by   a 
stranger 
Soon  make  her  forgetful  of  all  of  the  danger 


Landing  at  Dawson  in  the  Early  Days. 

Of  wagging  tongues,  or  the  breath  of  scandal 
Which  needs  but  a  touch  from  the  flame  of  a  candle 

To   start   such  a  row  as   would  soon   swamp   a 
nation — 
But  "Daddy  will  stop  it,  or  stop  all  creation. 

"Yes,  he's  a  good  fellow  to  have  around  handy 
"To  take  one  to  dances,  affairs  and  buy  candy, 

"Fruits,  dresses  and  what  not — its  nothing  to  him ; 
"If  you  choose  to  do  this,  why  don't  mind  his  whim; 


THE    OLD     GROUCH.  59. 

UllimilllMUIIIIMimilMMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIinilllllllllllUIMIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIMIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIJIMIIIMINIMIIIMMIIMJMIIIIIIIIIUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIU^ 

"His  grouches  are  harmless  and  soon  gotten  over — 
"All  it  takes  is  some  soft  words,  a  kiss,  come  now  lover. 

"But  when  he  expects  one  always  to  love  him 
"He    shouldn't    stay    round    where    he'd    always    be 
shovin' 

"Himself  on  one's  notice  three  times  a  day, 
"For  it's  pleasanter  far,  when  he's  out  and  away 

"In  the  hills  for  a  month,  maybe  two,  maybe 
more, 
"Oh,  then  I  can  stand  him  a  day,  two,  or  three, 

"And  put  up  with  his  kissings  and  lovings  galore, 
"  'Cause  I  know  I  will  get  what  I  want,  don't  you  see, 

"And  a  good  time  I'll  have  while  we're  out  for  a 
tear 
"While  I  work  him  for  nice  things  to  eat,  drink  and 
wear. 

"Of  coiu*se  I  would  like  tu  see  him  well  dressed — 
"I'm  ashamed  of  him  this  way,  it  must  be  confessed; 

"But  he  says  that  he  cannot  afford  to  buy  clothes ; 
"Though  he'd  spend  his  last  dollar  to  get  me  a  rose, 

"Then  back  to  the  hills,  and  work  like  a  tartar 
"To  earn  more  money  for  kisses  to  barter." 


THE  OLD  PIONEERS'  SOLILOQUY. 


Yes,  Pard,  we're  a  goin'  ter  mush  out. 
Eighteen  year  is  too  long  to  stay  here; 

An',  aside  fr'm  roomatics  an'  gout, 
I  must  admit  feelin'  some  queer. 

I'm  not  quite  so  young  as  I  was 
An'  my  han's  will  git  trembly,  too — 

Still,  I  don't  begrudge  stayin'  here,  'cause 
If  I  hadn't,  I'd  never  met  you. 


II. 


An'  together  we've  mushed  o'er  these  hills 
Crazed  with  lust  for  the  muck  they  call  gold, 

An*  we've  tunnell'd  an'  muck'd  'neath  the  sills 
Of  the  mountains,  defying  the  cold 

An'  th'  frost,  an'  th'  fierce,  icy  chill 
Of  th'  ice  chain'd  earth  all  around — 

'Twas  a  wonder  we  didn't  fall  ill, 
Although  better  pay  couldn't  be  found- 


THE  OLD  PIONEER'S  SOLILOQUY.    61. 

I iiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii I I iiiiiiiiiiiiimiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiii uiiimiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iii iiiiiiiiin 

III. 

But  along  came  Joe  Boyle,  with  his  "drudge" 
An'  th'  Googs  are  'way  up  on  th'  hill — 

An'  they  wanted  to  buy — Would  I  budge? 
Not  till  I'd  no  room  left  to  fill— - 

For  our  tailings  we  daren't  let  go; 
We  must  keep  them  banked  inside  the  line, 

Tho  the  Comp'ny's  land,  down  below, 
Would  have  held  all  we  had  mighty  fine. 


IV. 


So  now  we've  sold  out  for  a  pittance; 
Tho  we've  froze  an'  we've  starved  night  an'  day, 

Th'  Comp'ny  now  says  we're  good  riddance. 
That,  too,  after  we  blazed  out  th'  way. 

Without  us  an'  others  that's  like  us 
Fer  to  pioneer  an'  prove  th'  ground — 

To  take  what  we  got  an'  make  no  fuss, 
All  this  gold  wouldn't  never  BEEN  found. 

V. 

We're  goin'  back  over  th'  White  Pass, 
But  we  WON'T  have  to  MUSH  down  th'  trail; 

We'll  travel  this  time  in  th'  first  class — 
We  MUSHED  in,  we'll  RIDE  BACK,  on  th'  rail. 

We're  worn  out  with  all  th'  wild  scramble. 
With  th'  hardship,  privation  an'  care; 

But  headed  south  on  a  long  ramble, 
With  money  enough  an'  to  spare. 


62    UNDER   THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

iiiiimiiimiiiiiiiiimiiimiiii mi MiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiuiiiiuimiimiiiiiiiiniiiiiimiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiminniiiiiiinniiiiiiirainMiw 

VI. 

There's  millions  yet  where  we  were  diggin' 
An'  th'  Cbmp'ny'll  get  it  all  now, 

But  somehow,  of  late  I've  been  figg'rin' 
Why  we  MADE  such  a  deuce  of  a  row. 

We  haven't  much  longer  to  stay  here — 
We  can't  take  it  across  the  Divide — 

An'  I  for  one,  surely  have  no  fear 
That  we  shan't  have  enough  to  pervide. 


Pioneer  Party  sailing  across  Lake  LeBarge. 
VII. 

We  might  have  gone  out  years  ago,  pard, 
An'  we  had  just  as  much  then  as  now; 

But  then,  too,  it  surely  DID  look  hard 
To  th'  Comp'ny's  yoke  fer  to  bow. 


THE  OLD  PIONEER'S  SOLILOQUY       63. 

lUUIIIIMIIIIIIMIIIIIIMIIIIinillllllllllMIIIIIIIIMIIMIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIMIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIMIMUIUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIMIIIIIIIMiniMIMIMIMIIIIIIIIII 

Kind  o'  semed  th'  land  all  around  here 
Should  belong  to  th'  Pioneers  old; 

An'  'twould,  if  only  they'd  steered  clear 
Of  th'  hooch  an'  th'  decks  that  were  cold. 

VIII. 

We'll  mush  out  aboard  of  a  steamer 
With  our  dust  belted  tight  to  our  hides, 

Nor  stop  once  to  visit  no  schemer 
That  'd  like  to  give  us  some  free  rides 

In  a  new  self-start  'notty-mo-bile 
That'd  whisk  us  so  swiftly  away 

That  we'd  think  we  wus  puttin'  on  style — 
An'  then  soon  wie'd  be  back — ON  A  LAY. 

IX. 

We're  gettin'  too  old  fer  that  now,  pard, 
So  let's  mush,  while  th'  mushin'  is  good. 

Th'  dust  in  our  pokes  was  all  earn'd  hard — 
Better  friend  never  yet  by  us  stood. 

Outside  in  th'  winter  there's  roses 
'N'  strawberries  'n'  all  kin's  o'  fruit. 

So,  instead  of  freezin'  our  noses. 
Let's  shake  'em  all — ev'ry  galoot. 

X. 

Yes,  we'll  hike  where  th'  roses  is  bloomin' 
An'  when  fruit  we  have  eaten — our  fill — 

There'll  be  no  Comp'ny  "presumin' 
That  they'll  use  our  camp  site  fer  a  mill." 


6ff     UNDER   THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

nnilllllllUIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIJIIIIIIi::illlMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIItMIIIIIIIMINIMIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIin 

We'll  jes'  settle  down  kinder  quiet 
On  th'  bank  of  some  peaceable  lake; 

An'  th'  cuss  that  starts  any  riot 
Will  soon  find  that  we're  still  wide  awake. 

XI. 

We'll  travel  the  trail  then  together 
Till  we  come  to  the  partin'  of  ways. 

We're  surely  two  birds  of  a  feather 
An'  will  be  till  th'  end  of  our  days. 

So  goodbye  to  glorious  Northland — 
For  th'  earnest  man  sure  she'll  pervide. 

But  mucker  who  eats  out  of  her  hand — 
He  had  surely  much  better  have  died. 


WHERE  JOHN   CHINAMAN   GOT  HIS  SMILE. 

The  Yukon  Territory  is  the  only  State  or  Territory  on  the 
American  Continent  where  there  are  absolutely  no  Chinamen. 
In  the  early  days  a  colony  of  them  got  as  far  as  White  Horse 
but  were  instantly  run  out  of  the  country  and  not  one  has 
ever  ventured  in  since. 

A  smile  that  wont  fade  hath  the  Heathen  Chinee, 
Tho  he  's  wandered  the  earth  back  and  forth ; 

And  the  reason  for  this  'tis  now  easy  to  see — 
For  John  once  invaded  the  North. 

II. 

He  had  sailed  in  a  ship  that  was  staunch,  true  and  bold, 

In  numbers  sufficiently  strong, 
And  he  had  wondrous  visions  of  getting  the  gold 
Thru  a  "laundly,"  run  by  Wun  Fong. 

III. 

There  was  Wun  Lung,  Tu  Fee,  Wun  Fong  and  Ah 
Kee, 

Hop  Long,  Hop  Sing  and  Ah  Fook, 
Sing  Gee,  Hop  Loy,  Ah  Jung,  Ah  Foy,  Man  Fah  Gee, 

Lee  Wing,  Ah  Sing  and  Mar  Gook — 


66     UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

MiMimniiiiiiiiiiimiiMniiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiMiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiniiiiiiMniiiiHiniiiiiiiiiiuiiiiijiiJiiiiiinjiiiininiJiiiMiiiiuiiiniMiMiujm 

IV. 

And  four  dozen  more, — at  least  so  'tis  swore 

By  White  Horse  historian  old^ — 
Who  had  heard  of  "much  washee'  on  far  Klondyke 
shore, 

So  thought  they  would  come  get  the  gold. 


V. 


They  arrived  in  due  time  at  historic  Skagtown, 

And,  reckless  of  cost  or  expense, 
Took  passage  on  train  that  would  quick  set  them  down 

On  Canadian  side  of  the  fence. 


VI. 


Now  the  smile  that  they  wore  was  a  glory  to  see — 
They  never  once  thought  of  the  cold — 

Thus  two  full  box  car  loads  of  plain  Heathen  Chinee 
Invaded  the  land  of  the  gold. 

VII. 

As  they  pass'd  o'er  the  Summit,  the  cold  grew  intense, 
Still  they  smiled  as  they  thought  of  the  gold. 

And  thought  sure  that  they'd  quickly  make  up  the 
expense, 
So  smiled  on  in  spite  of  the  cold. 


JOHN  CHINAMAN'S  SMILE  67. 

HIIIIIMIIIIinillllllllimllllllllMMIIIUIIIIIUIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIMIMIIIIIIlllMnillllMIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIMIIIIIIMMIIMIIIIIIIII^ 

VIII. 

When  they  landed  at  White  Horse  'twas  late  in  the 
night ; 

They  smiled  in  their  dreams  until  dawn ; 
Then  were  waked  with  a  start  before  it  was  light 

By  grim  men  with  weapons  all  drawn. 

IX. 

They  were  hustled  back  onto  the  train  with  a  rush, 
And,  not  being  able  to  savey 


"New  Melican  talk,"  such  as  Vamoose!  and  Mush! 
Still  dream'd  of  their  pokes  getting  heavy. 

X. 

Then  the  train  quick  pulled  out  with  a  jerk  and  a  roar; 

And  John  still  continued  to  smile. 
He  heard  the  conductor  sing  out  "All  Abo-o-o-a-r'  " 

And  dreamed  of  "much  washee"  the  while. 


68     UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

riMniiiiiimiiiiiiiMiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiMitiiiiiiimiiiiniiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiNiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiiniiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiitmiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiii^ 

XI. 

The  grade  's  not  so  heavy  across  the  divide; 

The  train  whisked  them  quickly  along; 
So  long  'ere  John's  spirits  had  had  time  to  subside, 

At  the  Summit,  where  Frost  King  is  strong, 

XII. 

His  face  froze,  like  a  mask,  and  it  ne'er  has  thawed  out, 

Tho  that  smile  has  sure  won  him  renown. 
And  his  visions  of  wealth  all  went  quick  up  the  spout 
As  the  train  pulled  back  into  Skagtown. 


BABY'S  FAREWELL. 

Daddy's  girl  has  got  to  leave  him, 
Got  to  leave  dear  Mamma,  too. 

Tell  my  brothers  that  I  love  them 
Just  as  much  as  I  do  you ; 

But  I'm  going  over  yonder 
To  a  bright,  Celestial  home. 

Do  not  mourn,  nor  sit  and  ponder — 
I'll  NOT  leave  you  all  alone. 

I  will  constant  'roimd  you  hover, 
Guide  your  steps,  all  danger  thru; 

Still  I'll  be  your  "little  lover"— 
Baby's  love  will  make  you  true 

To  yourselves,  and  little  brothers. 
Till  we  meet  to  part  no  more. 

That  your  lives  may  mark,  for  others. 
Pathway  to  the  Golden  Shore. 

II. 

"Mamma's  girl"  has  got  to  leave  her; 
From  "Dear  Daddy"  she  must  go; 

Leave  behind  each  little  brother — 
I  can't  linger  here  below. 


70     UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

nniiiiiiniiNiiiiiiMiniiiniuiuMiMiiiiNiiiiiniiiiNiiiiMiniiiiiiiiiiiiMnniiiiiiiniiiiMiMuiiMiMiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiuiiiiiiiMiiiuiiiiHiiiiiiiiMiiMmiiiiiiii^ 

In  a  home  that's  over  yonder 
I  will  Oh !  so  happy  be ; 

Guarded  by  a  love  that's  fonder 
Than  on  earth  I  e'er  could  see. 

Do  not  mourn  because  I  leave  you — 
I  will  not  be  far  away. 

I  must  go— some  day  you'll  come  too — 
Meet  me  there — forever  stay. 

III. 

Then  when  we  meet  over  yonder 
Sorrow  we  no  more  shall  know. 

Then,  too,  you  no  more  will  wonder 
Why  it  is  I'm  glad  to  go. 

Glad!  but  sorry  you  are  grieving! 
For  I  must  point  out  the  way. 

Tho  a  little  child,  I'm  leading, 
Else  I  sure  would  want  to  stay; 

For  "A  little  child  shall  lead  them," 
Teacher  said  at  Sunday  School — 

"Like  yourselves,  your  neighbor,  love  him" — 
'Tis  the  best — the  Golden  Rule. 

IV. 

All  my  little  playthings,  "mam-mee," 
Give  some  other  little  girl — 

One  that's  lost  her  mamma  dearie, 
No  one  left  her  hair  to  curl. 

Wont  you  try  to  make  her  happy? 
Thus  obey  the  Golden  Rule 


BABTS    FAREWELL  71 

iiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiMimmm i iiiiiiim miiiiiiiimiiiiiiii iiiiiiiii iiiiiiimiii iiiimmiiiiiiii iiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiN 

And  you  thus  will  bring  me  daily 
Closer,  thru  the  Golden  Rule. 

'Twould  be  selfish,  mother  darling, 
If  my  things  you  kept  alway — 

Tho  I  know  your  heart  is  breaking, 
Do,  dear  mother,  as  I  say, 

And  you'll  be  much  more  contented 
While  you  wait  the  call  to  come. 

Till  at  last  your  work  is  ended 
And  I  come  to  take  you  home. 


"HE  THAT  IS  WITHOUT  SIN." 

The  Squaw  Man  Takes  Issue  With  His  Pard  and  Defends 
His  Claim. 

Oftentimes  I  sit  and  wonder 

Out  beneath  the  star  genmi'd  sky. 
If  I  once  more'U  get  out  yonder — 

Boyhood  friends  see  'fore  I  die. 
Wonder  if  they,  too,  will  shun  me 

As  a  thing  that  is  accurst — 
What  my  mother'd  say,  could  she  see — 

See  me  at  my  very  worst 
With  Nah-nee-nah  hov'ring  round  me, 

Face  alight  with  honest  love 
As  I  play  with  half-breed  Kiddie — 

Hers  and  mine — a  child  of  love. 

II. 

Yes,  I  know  its  shameful,  pardner, 

For  white  men  to  mix  with  them; 

But  a  lonely  man — like  gard'ner, 

As  he  flower  plucks  from  stem — 

Ain't  inclin'd  to  be  putick'lar 


A*fW 


-S>'  •    » 


^"*'^^A^?4:.^fcl*^ 


"HE  THAT  IS  WITHOUT  SIN"        73 

NnnniMIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIUIMIIIIIIMIMIINIIIMIIIIIIIIIMtllllllllllllllllllllllllltlltlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllUIIIIIIMMMIIinilMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII^ 

When  the  flow'rs  are  far  an'  few; 
An'  Dan  Cupid  ain't  no  stickler 
On  th'  color  line,  like  you. 

III. 

God!  th'  lonesomeness  I've  felt  here 

Would  have  drove  most  men  insane; 
And,  ag'in  I'd  been  here  six  year — 

Suff'red  long  lone  weeks  of  pain 
Ras'lin'  with  rheumatic  fever, 

Till  at  last  Nah-nee-nah  came — 
Now,  do  you  think  I  could  leave  her? 

Since  that  time  'taint  been  th'  same. 

IV. 

She  it  was  when  all  my  joints  were 

Swollen  up  with  roomatiz, 
Rubb'd  'em,  with  her  little  hands,  sir, 

Till  it  all  was  gone,  an'  'tis 
No  wonder,  when  at  last  'twas  o'er 

I  forgot  her  skin  was  red — 
An'  took  her  to  my  heart  to  share 

Half  my  grub  an'  half  my  bed. 


V. 


Tho  her  skin  is  red,  her  heart  is 
White  as  any  other  girl's 

An'  her  footsteps  just  as  light;  'tis 
A  wondrous  row  of  pearls 


74     UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

mmmmmmiimiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiniiiwiiiiiiiiMiiiHiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiHiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinijiiiiiiiijiNiiiMjiniiiiiiiiiiiMiMiNiiiiiiMiiiiiiNiuuJiN 

She  has  for  teeth,  then,  too,  besides, 
She's  of  royal  blood  at  home: 

So  now,  as  she  beside  me  rides. 

As  we  thro  these  mountains  roam. 

Can  you  wonder  that  I  love  her — 


Natives  Gathering  Wood. 

That  to  her  I'll  be  as  true 
As  I  e'er  could  to  another — 

Tell  me,  pard,  what  would  YOU  do? 

VI. 


Tho  she's  Injun  she  is  HUMAN, 

And  if  I  SHOULD  leave  her  now 

I  can  see  her  in  th'  glocunin' — 

'Neath  the  blow  her  head  she'd  bow. 

Never  once  would  she  reproach  me — 
She  would  sorrow  all  alone — 

Tell  me,  pard,  if  YOU  can  just  see 


"HE  THAT  IS  WITHOUT  SIN"        75 

KNniiniiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit iitiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiH 

How  on  earth  I  could  atone. 
Of  her  best  her  ALL  she's  given — 

Truer  wife  you  ne'er  could  meet; 
And,  pard,  if  there  IS  a  Heaven 

She  will  sit  at  Jesus'  feet. 

VIL 

He  it  was,  when  men  reviled  him 

'Cause  he  took  poor  woman's  part. 
Told  'em,  "He  that  is  without  sin," 


wmm 


Typical  Native  Children. 


Let  HIM  th'  stone  throwin'  start. 
So  when  you  galoots  come  pest'rin' — 

Call  me  squaw  man — have  your  fling. 
If  there's  one  of  YOU  without  sin, 

CALL  me  SQUAW  MAN,  but  'twill  bring 


76     UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

MMIIIUIIIUIIIUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIMIIIIIIMIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIMIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIMIMIIIIIIIIIIMIIIMIIIIIMIMIU 

Nary  blush  of  shame  to  my  face, 

For  of  her  I'm  not  ashamed; 
Even  the  she's  not  of  my  race, 

She  is  human,  and  she's  earn'd 
All  of  life  I've  left  to  give  her — 

I  were  but  a  loathsome  cad, 
Pale  of  face  but  white  of  liver. 

Did  I  cause  her  to  be  sad. 


SOURDOUGH  GARDEN  SASS. 

Mulloy,  Cheechaco,  Ridicules  our  Agricultural  Efforts. 

You  say  the  land  is  sour  and  the  climate  is  too  cold ; 

That  the  sun  has  not  the  power  that  it  had  in  days  of 

old. 

Well,  it  may  be  that  you're  right— 
'Twon't  grow  under  Northern  Light ; 
But  this  much  I'm  here  to  state,  and  you'll  sure  cor- 
roborate 
My  statement,  by  the  time  that  I  am  through— 'tis 

hard  to  bate 

— Our  Cabbage. 

II. 

Tho  the  summer's  not  so  long,  sure  the  sun  is 
mighty  strong; 
No  night  chill   sets  the  plant  life  back— 'tis  rather 
pushed  along; 

And  if  you  had  keener  sight 
'Tis  just  possible  you  might. 
By  watchin'  careful,  see  'em  grow,  like  Jack's  o* 
Beanstalk  fame; 


78    UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

HmiMniiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmimiitiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiMiiiiiMiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiMiMiiMiMiriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiii^ 

And  then  you  might  admit,  tho  it  hurt  a  little  bit,  no 
other  's  quite  the  same — 

— Our  Turnips, 

III. 

Ah,  but  now,  says  you,  "me  bhoy,  there's  wan 
thing  that  I  enjoy 
That  yez  can't  grow  in  this  frozen  Northland  yet" — 
But,  Mulloy, 

With  no  hours  of  night  to  chill 


Poling  Boat.     The  principal  means  of  transportation  on  many  streams. 

And  the  sun  round  like  a  mill 
A  shinin',  North,  South,  East  and  West,  all  sides 
alike  you  see; 
I  am  sure  that  you  will  find  they  can't  grow  outside — 
ah,  me^ — 

— Such  Celery. 

IV. 

But,  Mulloy  came  back  once  more,  like  the  old 
determined  bore 
That  he  is,  and  says,  says  he,  sure  me  bhoy,  there's 
something  more — 


SOURDOUGH  GARDEN  SASS  79 

nHIIIIIMIIIinilllllinilininilllllllltllllMMIIIIIIIIMIMIIIMIMIIIMIMMMMIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIMnillllllllllllllMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIUIIIIIIMlrillfMI^ 

And  I  straightway  asked  him  what. 
Well,  says  he,  take  off  yer  hat 

For  the  rale  ould  Irish  spud — surely  it  can't  be 
grown  here. 

But  I  answered,  with  a  smile,  sure  you  cannot  beat,  I 
fear, 

— Our  P'raters. 

V. 
Down  the  street  we  slowly  passed,  talking,  till  we 
came,  at  last — 


Miles  Cannon,  where  many  lost  their  lives.     White  Horse  Rapids 
is  just  a  little  farther  down  stream. 

Till  we  came  upon  the  very  thing  I  sought — Not  so 
fast— 

I  cried,  Mulloy,  I've  got  you 
You  must  admit  it  is  true. 
We  beat  the  world  for  Garden  Sassi — its  like  you 
never  saw, 
For  they're  tender,  sweet  and  firm  and  you'd  fairly  love 
them  raw — 

— Our  Onions. 


80    UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

UlllllllllllllllllllllinmilMIIIIIIIIIMIIIMIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIItlllllllllllllllllllllllllllMIIMIMM 

VI. 

So  as  down  the  street  we  walked  over  Garden  Sass 
we  talked — 
Of  lettuce,  spinach,  radishes,  and  never  once  he  balked. 
For  when  he  had  been  shown 
All  the  Garden  Sass  we'd  grown, 
And  nipped  at  this  and  broken'  that — found  them 
all  crisp  and  fine, 
Very  soon  he  then  declared  that  we  had  him — on  our 
line 

— Of  Garden  Sass. 


k 

ps' 

mw\ 

H 

- 

:^' 

..-., 

- 

- 

be 

m 

Bi^H 

THE    ICE    POOL. 


Hark!  ain't  that  the  N.  C.  whistle, 

Sendin'  out  upon  the  air 
Tidings  such  as  no  epistle 

E'er  yet  bro't  by  stage  could  bear — 
That  the  long,  long  winter's  broken 

(Soon  a  boat  we'll  see,  no  doubt). 
Hurry,  pard !   I'm  just  a-chokin'— 

From  th'  cabin  must  get  out. 

II 

Ice's  movin',  Pete!    Come,  Billy! 

Hurry  up,  don't  miss  the  sight! 
What's  the  minute — 'leven,  silly! 

Stranger  pick'd  up  'lev'n  las'  night! 
Drifted  in  on  the  last  stages, 

An'  no  sooner  town  he's  struck 
Than  he  makes  a  summer's  wages 

Over  this  fool  piece  of  luck. 


82    UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

llimiMlllllllirllllllllimillllMIIIIIIIIIMIIIIMIIlrllllllllllllllllllllllllMIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIMIIIINIIIIIIIIMIIIIIMIIIIIHMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIM 

III 

Bv'ry  one  was  feard  o'  'leven, 

'Cause  it  come  on  'lev'n  last  year; 
Superstition,  too,  queered  seven. 

Till  'long  comes  this  stranger  here. 
Soon's  he  saw  that  them  two  numbers 

Hadn't  yet  been  took  at  all. 
What's  he  do  but  poke  unlimbers^ — 

Three  pools  open — takes  'em  all ! 


An  Ice  Pool.    Filled,  this  would  pay  the  winner  $300. 
IV 

Must  be  he'd  been  in  a  crap  game 
An'  won  out  on  them  two  "figs" — 

Figgr'd  that  his  luck  was  still  same. 
So  he  writ  down  them  six  "sigs" 


THE    ICE    POOL.  83 

RlllllllllllllllllllllllllllinnilllllllllllllllllMIIIIIMMIIIIMIIIIIIIIIMIIUMIIIJIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINIIIIIIIIIMIIIIUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIMIIMIIIIIIIIIM 

An'  rakes  down  twelve  hundred  dollars 

On  investment  mighty  slim. 
Gosh!    I'll  bet  he  more  than  hollers — 

He'll  be  feelin'  pretty  trim. 

Funny  how  the  luck  runs,  pardner — 
You  an'  I  have  play'd  th'  pools 

Till  w^e've  gone  without  our  dinner 
Like  a  pair  of  bloomin'  fools, 


Christmas  in  Dawson  in  eariy  days 
An'  we've  never  won  a  dollar — 

No  such  luck  for  us,  you  see — 
Ah,  well!  it's  no  use  to  holler; 

Next  year  maybe  us  'twill  be. 
VI 
Then  'twill  be  our  turn  to  holler. 

An'  we'll  find  we've  lots  of  friends 
That  will  help  us  spend  a  dollar — 

There,  too,  many  a  frien'ship  ends; 


84     UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIUIIIIIIMIMIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII^ 

Time  that  one's  got  done  a-treatin' 

All  the  boys  all  over  town, 
'N*  other  frien's,  too,  we'd  be  meetin'. 

Pool  we'd  wish  we'd  not  pull'd  down. 

VII 

But  there  seems  a  fascination 

'Bout  the  ice  pools,  ev'ry  year; 
Makes  it  hard  as  all  tarnation 

Not  to  write  our  names,  for  fear 
That  for  once  we  might  have  hit  it — 

Even  tho'  th'  prize  we'd  blow 
In  for  wine,  the  very  minute 

That  we  got  it— AIN'T  IT  SO? 


THE  EVENT  OF  THE  YEAR 

Ten  days  now  since  the  river  opened,  and  nary  a  boat 

in  sight; 
The  mail  all  bunched  up  at  the  crossing— wonder  '£ 

she'll  come  tonight. 
Which'll  beat— the  Vidette  or  the  White  Horse— Sid's 

at  the  wheel,  you  know — 
'F  e'er  there  was  daredevil  let  loose,  it's  Sid,  when  he's 

out  for  to  show 
That  "Sidestreams"  is  still  in  the  runnin'— hasn't  been 

beaten  as  yet — 
Tell  you,  pard,  now  I'm  just  a-bettin'  they  won't  ahead 

of  him  get. 

II 

Gosh!  'tis  a  long  time  a-waitin'  for  winter  to  wear 

itself  out, 
And  even  after  she's  open,  it  seems  like  a  month,  just 

about, 
Till  some  one  lets  out  a  holler— "Ste-e-e-ambo-o-o-at !" 

an'  then  we  all  race  for  the  dock— 
"There  she  comes  'round  the  bend!  What'd  I  tell  ya— 

Sid  comes  on  th'  stroke  o'  th'  clock. 


86    UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

MIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMMIJIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIItlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll 

"There's  the  White  Horse  behind  him!   A  close  race! 

Hooray,  boys,  I've  won  a  new  hat! 
"An'  look  at  th'  freight  that's  aboard  her — they  haven't 

room  left  for  a  cat. 
"Look,  all  the  people  aboard,  too !  Sid  always  does  get 

a  big  load ! 


White  Pass  City  and  the  trail.     White  Pass  in  the  distance. 

"There's  lots  would  sooner  wait  for  him  than  get  a  free 
pass  down  the  road." 

Ill 

"Hurry,    Sid!   th'   White   Horse'll   beat   you!     She's 

swingin'  a'ready  to  dock! 
"See,  there's  Splotus,  an'  Hill;  Mrs.  Vining,  an'  Bill, 

th'  cigar  man — 


THE  EVENT  OF  THE  YEAR  87 

nMIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIMIIMIIIIIIIMIIIIIIiniMnilllMJIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIIinillllllllllllllMIIIMIIIIINIIIIIMIIIIIIIIJIIIMMIMIMIIIM 

"Little  Joe,  an'  th'  Kid ;  Teddy,  too,  an'  there's  'Millie' 

and  Carman, 
"Who  come  once  a  year;  Gibson  and  *Holz' — I  didn't 

know  he  was  out — 
"And  would  you  just  look  at  the  kids,  too !   Sid's  got  a 

load,  just  about, 


Seward,  Alaska,  a  few  years  ago.   It  looks  much  different  now. 

"But  he  sure's  eam'd  it,  and  b'sides,  too,  this  will  give 
some  folks  a  shock." 

IV 

So  at  last  the  season  is  open,  the  event  of  the  year  has 
gone  past. 

An',  pard,  here's  to  you,  an'  I'm  hopin'  that  this  sea- 
son's better  than  last. 

Each  year,  as  we  gaze  up  th'  river  for  th'  smoke  of 
first  boat  to  arrive, 


88    UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

iwmiiMiiiiiiiumiiniiMHnuiMNniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiJiiiuiiiMiiiiiiiiJiiJiJiiiiiiiMiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiriiriiiiiiiiiiiiiiH 

It  sure  sets  me  all  of  a  quiver  a  wond'rin'  how  long 

we'll  survive. 
Each  year  when  th'  first  boat  breaks  open  th'  season 

we've  waited  so  long, 
There's  been  some  ol'  frien's  we'd  been  hopin'  would 

soon  'a'  been  husky  an'  strong 
That  we've  planted  up  on  th'  hill-top — I  wonder  who'll 

be  next  to  go? 
Of  one  thing  I'm  certain — that,  sure  pop,  there's  some 

that  won't  see  no  more  snow. 


FROZEN  IN 


On  the  sixth  of  November  we  started, 

'Twas  the  latest  start  ever  was  known. 
"Captain  Sid"  had,  before  we  departed. 

Ordered  "wood  that  was  dry  as  a  bone," 
For  the  slush  ice  ran  thick  in  the  river 

And  a  light  scow  ahead  we  must  push; 
Then  a  flurry  of  snow  made  us  shiver, 

So  we  bundled  aboard  with  a  rush. 


II 


Over  one  hundred  souls  were  aboard  her — 

'Twas  the  little  Vidette,  if  you  please — 
Tho'  on  shore  we  left  many  a  croaker, 

We  bucked  both  ice  and  current  with  ease. 
"Captain  Sid"  on  upper  deck  standing. 

Whistled  out  one  long  malamute  howl, 
While  the  hundreds  who  watched  on  the  landing 

Thot  that  sure  in  the  ice  we'd  soon  foul. 


90    UNDER   THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

iiMiuMiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiii»iiuiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiHiiiniiiiMiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiHiiiiiil»uuiiiiniiiiiiiiiiuaiiiuiuiii^ 

III 

Course  our  progress  was  slow  up  the  river, 

What  with  pushing  that  useless  old  barge; 
And  it  made  more  than  one  of  us  quiver 

When  the  ice  cakes  began  getting  large. 
Now  both  banks  we  kept  watching  for  dry   wood, 

For  the  wood  that  we'd  got  wouldn't  burn. 
All  night  "Captain  Sid"  and  his  mates  stood 

Thinking  sure  they'd  find  some  at  each  turn. 

IV. 

When  at  last  we  had  reached  lower  crossing, 

And  the  dangerous  bar  lay  ahead, 
We  raked  o'er  all  the  wood  pile,  'thout  finding 

Enough  dry  wood  to  make  us  a  bed 
For  our  fires,  and  feared  our  steam  would  run  down 

Before  up  at  the  bar  we  could  tie 
That  barge,  and  reach  dry  pile  that  was  known — 

But  not  one  of  us  thought  to  say  die. 


All  went  fine  till  we  only  had  farther 

A  short  eighth  of  a  mile  still  to  go. 
And  then,  all  on  account  of  low  water. 

We  all  had  to  get  out  on  the  snow. 
Then  once  more  "Captain  Sid"  tried  to  make  it, 

Tho'  he  was  forced  to  give  up  at  last — 
And  then,  almost  before  we  had  started. 

We  were  stuck  on  the  bar,  hard  and  fast. 


FROZEN  IN  91 

iiiMiiiiiiiiiiminuiiiinniuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimunumiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuniiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiMiniiiiiMiiiiiiiiniHiiiiMiiiiiinJiiiiiiMiiiiiiiuiiiiii^ 

VI 

For  three  days  and  three  nights  we  remained  there, 

Altho'  efforts  heroic  were  made, 
But  at  last  we  got  clear,  and  I'll  now  swear 

That  not  one  single  soul  was  afraid, 
Tho'  the  ice  that  had  struck  us  was  heavy, 


Oh  the  way  back  to  Dawsan. 
Such  a  staunch  little  craft,  the  Vidette, 
With  a  captain  and  crew  that  were  nervy 
We  tho't  that  we'd  win  over  it  yet. 

VII 
Now  free  from  the  bar,  with  ice  all  aroar — 

'Twas  ahead,  on  each  side  and  astern — 
We  fought  inch  by  inch — around  point  we  wore, 

And  then  once  more  had  dry  wood  to  bum. 
But  days  we  had  lost,  we  found,  to  our  cost. 

Had  lowered  the  water  still  farther ; 
Our  progress  was  slow,  and  much  wood  we  tossed 

Into  furnace — ice  getting  harder. 

VIII 
At  last  we  gave  up  and  shelter  we  took, 
At  spot  near  a  telegraph  station; 


92     UNDER  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

iiiHiHiniiiNtiitiuiimmimmimiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiMiiiiiJiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiiiiiii njiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiu 

Then  wired  to  Dawson  and  told  them  we'd  look 

For  assistance — tho'  we  had  ration. 
All  Dawson  turned  out  to  rescue  us  quick, 

Tho'  we  told  them  no  need  to  hurry — 
We  were  warm  and  dry — we'd  blankets  so  thick, 

And  some  of  us  coats  that  were  furry. 

IX 

The  river  at  last  closed  in  with  a  crash 
And  grinding  of  ice  floes  together — 
We'd  sawed  the  boat  into  safe  little  cache ; 


One  of  the  first  attempts  to  reach  Dawson  by  auto. 

And  sure  we  did  have  some  fine  weather. 
Then  we  set  out — those  could  mush  who  were  stout- 

And  those  who  were  weaker  were  cared  for ; 
A  day's  mush,  about,  lay  end  of  our  route — 

Then  more  than  one  of  us  was  footsore. 


H 

m 

> 
c 

H 

o 
o 

> 

N 

m 

C/l 

H 

m 
c/i 

D 
> 

O 

z 


O    CT) 


^  a 


3    2- 


3.   3 


^    cro 

5: 3 


3  ^ 

ft 

P  > 

3  c 

o  p 


>>  ^ 


>    o 


3i  Q 


FROZEN    IN.  93 

lllllllllllinillllllllinillllllllllllllllMtllllllllMIIIIIIMIIIMIMIIIIIMIIMIMtlinilllllllMIMIMiniMIIIMMIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIIIMIIIMJIIIIIMIIIIIIIIINIIMtMIIIMIMIMIIIIIII^ 

X 

But — Dawson  at  last — we'd  sure  traveled  fast, 

And  never  a  one  did  reproach  us. 
For  brave  "Captain  Sid"  a  medal  was  cast — 

We  rode  out  upon  White  Pass  coaches; 
And  still,  to  this  day,  the  story  is  told. 

Of  brave  "Captain  Sid"  and  his  doings — 
He  dared  once  too  oft  the  fierce  Northern  cold, 

But  took  with  a  smile  heavy  losings. 


A    LESSON    FROM    THE    BRUTES 

The  cariboo  run  in  immense  droves  across  the  Northern 
country  every  year,  literally  thousands  of  them  being  in  a 
single  drove,  much  as  the  buffalo  used  to  run  through  the 
middle  west  years  ago.  The  circumstances  detailed  below 
actually  occurred  during  one  of  these  great  cariboo  runs  a 
few  years  ago.  One  fine  big  fellow  had  been  wounded  and 
was  unable  to  paw  away  the  snow  to  reach  the  moss,  which 
is  their  principal  food,  and  my  informant  actually  saw  several 
others  paw  away  the  snow  so  the  wounded  one  could  eat 
and  then  stand  by  without  eating  until  he  had  eaten  his  fill. 

Now  some  folks  say  an  animile  ain't  got  no  sense  at  all ; 

That  all  they  ever  think  of  is  their  grab ; 
But  e'en  the  hedless  cariboo,  when  they  run  in  the  fall, 

An'  browse  along,  from  ev'ry  little  shrub. 
Can  set  us  all  a  pattern  we'd  do  v/ell  to  emulate — 

At  least  I  heerd  of  one  the  other  day 
That  sure  would  make  some  humans  blush,  leastwise, 
at  any  rate. 

They'd  orter  less'n  they're  not  built  that  way. 

II 

Of  course,  I  know  there's  people  that  sure  cannot  blush 
at  all. 
But  when  they  hear  this  they'll  let  out  the  job 
If  they've  the  sense  God  gave  a  louse,  or  e'en  a  little 
ball 


A  LESSON  FROM  THE  BRUTES       95 

niiMinnjumiiiMHiniiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiMMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMMMiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiJUiriuniii 

Of  gray  matter,  behind  their  wondrous  gob. 
A  friend  of  mine  went  huntin',  out  where  the  cariboo 
run, 
An'  tells  this  story  as  the  Gospel  truth — 
Of  how  he  saw  a  cariboo,  near  setting  of  the  sim. 
But  it  was  sorely  wotmded  in  one  hoof. 
Ill 
The  snow  lay  thick  upon  the  grotmd,  the  moss  he  could 
not  reach. 
As  on  three  legs  he  slowly  limped  along. 
But  others  of  his  tribe  near  by  could  us  a  lesson  teach — 
They  saw  his  plight  and  came,  for  they  were  strong ; 
They  paw'd  away  the  cov'rin'  snow  till  he  the  moss 
could  reach. 
Then  stood  and  watched  him  till  he'd  ett  his  fill — 
How  thus  those  poor  dumb  critters  could  such  lesson 
to  us  teach, 
Has  made  me  wonder,  pard,  till  I  was  ill. 

IV 
I  wonder  if  the  car'boo,  too,  know  of  the  Golden  Rule, 

Else  why  did  they  stand  back  while  brother  ate? 
I  know  my  tale  sounds  fishy — that  you'll  put  me  down 
a  fool, 
A  wishy-washy,  slushy  addlepate; 
But  'tis  true  what  I  am  tellin'  about  those  poor  dumb 
brutes. 
While  man,  for  all  his  church  an'  Sunday  school, 
Takes  out  his  gun  on  Sunday — oft  without  a  need  he 
shoots — 
Don't  half  so  well  obey  the  Golden  Rule. 


IT'S  A  LONG  WAY  TO  DEAR  OLD  DAWSON. 

(Tune— "Tipperary.") 

It's  a  long  way  to  dear  old  Dawson, 

It's  a  long  way  to  go. 
It's  a  long  way  to  dear  old  Yukon, 

To  the  land  of  ice  and  snow. 
Good-bye,  dear  old  Dawson; 

Farewell,   Klondyke  Vale. 
It's  a  long,  long  way  to  dear  old  Dawson, 

But  my  heart's  on  the  trail. 


Three  Fingered  Pete,  th'  foreman,  was  took  sick  with  roomatiz; 
He'd  been  hittin'  up  th'  Bourbon  an'  now  was  gettin'  his; 
So  he  hied  him  to  a  hospital,  where  "Doc."  of  great  renown, 
Pronounced  his  case  too  serious  to  be  treated  in  that  town: 
Said  Pete  must  hit  th'  trail  again  an'  journey  far  "outside": 
Anyway,  he'd  been  here  long  enough,  an'  was  due  to  take  a  ride. 
So  Pete  began  a  lookin'  fer  some  place  on  foreign  strand 
That  had  a  reppytation,  fer  to  take  his  case  in  hand. 
He  got  from  White  Pass  office  all  th'  advertisin'  dope 


They  had  on  hand,  an'  read  it  all,  'thout  gettin'  any  hope, 

Till  from  a  tourist  he  one  day  a  paper  chanced  to  bum — 

An'  it  befell  he  saw  an  ad  invitin'  him  to  come 

An'  bring  his  roomatiz  along,  to  place  in  Portland  town. 

Where  soon  they'd  take  it  out  of  him  an'  do  his  case  up  brown 

An'  do  it  all  'thout  medicine,  with  Nature's  means  alone — 

So  quickly  then  he  packed  his  grip,  with  man-ya  grunt  an'  groan 

An'  bot  thru  ticket  of  first  class,  determined  that  he'd  ride 

In  ease  an'  comfort  o'er  the  trail,  since  he  must  go  "outside." 

At  last  he  reach'd  Old  Portland  town  and  place  of  which  he'd  read 

And  sure  enough,  he  found  that  they  used  Nature's  means,  instead 

Of  giving  medicine,  th'  roomatiz  to  cure,  as  well 

All  other  human  ailments,  too,  too  numerous  to  tell. 

He  was  some  skeptic  from  the  start — he  simply  could  not  see 

How  exercise  an'  heat  an'  sech,  could  take  from  out  his  knee 

An'  hips  an'  back,  an'  all  his  bones,  th'  pain  he'd  learn'd  to  dread 

Till  often  he'd  been  heard  to  say  he'd  sooner  far  be  dead. 

But  in  due  time  Pete's  roomatiz,  like  all  things,  came  to  end: 

His  hips  an'  back  an'  all  his  joints  he  found  he  now  could  bend 

'Thout  suff'rin'  mortal  agony  each  time  he  made  a  move — 

Th'  swellin',  too,  had  left  his  hands — he  now  could  wear  a  glove. 

So  in  good  time  Pete  hied  him  back  unto  th'  North  again — 

His  roomatiz  now  sure  all  gone — he  hasn't  e'ery  pain 

An'  never  tires  of  tellin'  how  all  cases,  as  they  come, 

"Doc"  Nisbeth  treats  with  great  success  at  San-i-tar-i-um, 

An'  that  his  worst  in  medicine  is  only  aqua  pure 

An'  that  he  draws  from  out  th'  clouds  'lectric'ty  some  to  cure, 

But  treats  'em  all,  both  great  an'  small,  for  ailments  manifold — 

For  nerves,  diseases  mental,  "diabeets,"  a  common  cold. 

An'  many  other  ailments,  too — well,  Pete  he  sure  got  his — 

An'  Bright's  Disease  he  cures  with  ease — Oh!  yes,  an'  roomatiz. 


kton.  Calif 

IAN.  21,  1308 


v-ujoijiijc  r 


IW315145 


V  V 


■.■J\: 


